In One Spirit
by mavidian
Summary: (SSHG) Voldemort and Dumbledore prepare for war and survival. Plans go awry, intrigues abound and nothing is what it seems. Snape created the Dark Mark but that mistake may cost him everything. Can Hermione be his saving grace?
1. In One Spirit

**In One Spirit**

By mavidian

Disclaimer: I am only borrowing for my own temporary amusement.

Summary: Pressure and stress mount day by day at Hogwarts as Lord Voldemort regains his health and his followers. His hunger to triumph over his enemies knows no limit. For some the price of victory will be too high. For others not high enough. Albus Dumbledore needs to win. To that end he recruits allies while spearheading preparations for attack, defense and siege. Severus Snape lost any choice in the matter a long time ago; he can only hope to survive. Now as his past, present and future collide, he finds a new path to possible redemption - a path strewn with questionable motives and hidden dangers.

Along the way he is joined by two unlikely allies: Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. Neville gains in confidence and wisdom. Hermione discovers that being muggle born is an unexpected advantage. As the story opens, Snape's atypical behavior sets tongues wagging.

Notes: This work in progress was written way before Order of the Phoenix. This story is not centered around Harry but rather on the heads of houses and other neglected characters especially the faculty and other minor characters. This story's main ship is SS/HG.

**Chapter 1**

_**In One Spirit**_

The Great Hall echoed with the usual hubbub of early morning chatter. The enchanted sky showed bright, cloudless skies rather atypical of Novembers in England. Late risers were just now making their way to their house tables. Most of the early bird fifth, sixth and seventh years were absentmindedly grazing through their meal. Their concentration was reserved for their textbooks or on keeping a tight rein on madly rasping quills racing to reach that last needed centimeter of parchment. At some point in the middle of fifth year, homework had evolved from a necessary nighttime penance to a voracious monster devouring precious time and energy. Thus, overly perky or giggly first and second years were not looked upon with great favor.

In its own way, the staff table was showing signs of stress and strain, too. Many of the teachers had taken on or were assigned additional duties in preparation for Voldemort's inevitable advance towards the school. Many of the teachers were doing research after classes or working with the headmaster in devising ways to strengthen the castle's defenses both magical and non-magical. Dumbledore surveyed the rank and file of Hogwarts' staff and faculty noting the puffy eyes on some, the slumping shoulders of others and the forced alertness of those refusing to surrender to something as trivial as exhaustion. Professors Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape were two of the latter.

Professor McGonagall took her spectacles off then rubbed her tired eyes. Beside her, the headmaster poured more coffee into his deputy's cup. Sparing a quick smile for this thoughtful gesture, her eyes roamed about the hall checking on her young charges. Seeing that all was well, she set to reviewing the day's task list clucking under her breath at all the things left undone from the previous day.

Dumbledore next turned his gaze to his potions master seated at the other end of the table. To all outward appearance Professor Snape was little changed, attired in his usual black on black ensemble with his serious demeanor in plain evidence. The headmaster noticed the little things though - one cup of coffee followed by hot chocolate, several helpings of tomatoes and eggs and twice the amount of sausage and beans. What had brought on this sudden gastronomic indulgence, he wondered.

Professor Snape stabbed at a vulnerable sausage hiding under his eggs. He chewed slowly taking note of taste and texture. The coffee had roused his senses to full alertness and his fuel-starved body was slowly being sated. He ate a bit of everything around him. The tomatoes and sausage were most appealing.

Dumbledore buttered his toast and said almost casually, "Is there anything amiss with Severus that I should know about, Minerva?"

"Why do you ask?"

"He's eaten more in one sitting than he does in a whole day."

"He needs his strength and his rest, doesn't he? At least he's being creative about how he gets it."

"I suppose it is a good sign that he has accepted the situation."

"I don't see it as acceptance, rather a stoic resignation to the inevitable," Minerva sipped her coffee then continued on in low tones. "He has been driving himself harder than ever in every way. Poppy admitted to dosing his drink with rejuvenation potions at every evening meal. How much longer will he last? Will any of us?"

"We will because we must," Dumbledore took a long drink. "Severus' latest project will be the key to our defense and survival."

"As to that, I cannot decide whether to admire his daring brilliance or berate him for his foolhardy courting of disaster. It's the Whomping Willow all over again, and this time no one was there to save him."

"He does not want to be saved, Minerva. He told me so last night. He knows there would be no value to the attempt." Dumbledore sighed and returned to his meal.

After a small sigh and a last sip of hot chocolate, Professor Snape rose and made his way down the center aisle. There was a morning class scheduled. It would not do to be late. His eyes darted around the hall noting details and impressions.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron paced in front of Hermione and Lavender waving a book about in his left hand and gesturing madly with the right. He ranted. "This is impossible! Impossible! How much meaning could there be in two short stanzas?"

After listening to Ron for the last fifteen minutes, Hermione was nearly at the end of her patience. She took a deep calming breath before replying. "You're reading it wrong. Poetry is just like a song but without the music. It has its own rhyme and rhythm."

"Feel the words and the meaning will come to you, eventually." Lavender added

"This bloody essay is due tomorrow! I don't see any essay delivery owls coming my way!" As much as he complained, Ron was no quitter. He took a deep breath and tried yet again putting particular emphasis on any word starting with a capital letter. "The Mountains mingle with the Rivers and the Rivers with the Ocean."

The rendition flowed as unrelenting and graceless as intermittent machine gun fire in an enclosed space. Ron went on and on in ever louder tones.

On his every step down the aisle, Snape's irritation grew. There in the hall a literary massacre was being committed. There was only one thing to do.

Professor Snape sidled to the Gryffindor table. With narrowed eyes, he looked at the guilty party Snape pointed an open hand at the book. "Mr. Weasley, Shelley must truly have done you a great disservice for you to attempt the utter destruction of his work in this manner."

"It's for Muggle Studies, professor. I need to write a two meter essay on its meaning for tomorrow. In two stanzas, what is there to write about?" Ron replied giving Snape the book.

"Poems are exercises in literary subtlety, clarity and elegance. Several qualities that your house has rarely, if ever, excelled at. I am therefore not surprised at your difficulty."

Ron bristled at the insult but kept his composure. He was not about to lose points over a silly poem. "I can see that it's about love and being together forever and ever. That's the theme."

Snape's eyes traveled down the page. "A poem, especially one like this, cannot be read as if it were a conversation expectant of an audience cognizant of your intent. A giver of a poem must have no other guileless purpose than to reveal truth through the poem's nuances. In turn, the recipient must then savour it like a confession of the heart or a sharing of souls."

Ron doggedly pressed on with his point. "And the truth is that it's about love between two people."

Snape looked up from his focused study of the text. "Love, yes. But it is also about passion and the inevitable rightness of that passion. The kind that endures because the love that begat that passion was inevitable, immutable absolute as natural law. It simply is and must therefore exist. This is not prose where your goal is to advance the narrative or describe it so others may understand what is happening. No, you must convey the poem's emotions and ideas and leave the listener to discover what the poem means to them. Attend, if you please."

Hermione and Lavender gazed at Snape in dumb founded silence. His words were in such marked contrast from all they knew of this teacher. How could such words have come from this most brusque, unfeeling of professors but undeniably did with no sarcasm, no snide remark or sly venomous sneer.

Breakfast was temporarily forgotten. Gryffindors milling about close by were looking at Snape with a mixture of surprise, disbelief and growing interest. A few stayed put curious to see how this unusual event would play out. Some eyes at the Slytherin table began to furtively stray towards the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. Pansy Parkinson nudged Draco Malfoy. She pointed at their head of house. Ron, Hermione and Lavender were in rapt attendance.

Professor Snape stood with one leg resting on the seat bench and the book propped open on his bent knee. He began to read. His cadence was melodic and sure while the tone of his voice crisp and unhurried. His vocal instrument was pitched with the authority to be heard yet imbued with a sensuous gliding timbre. His every word was branded with lingering strokes of anticipation that hinted at promised release like aged wine welcoming the air, and, finally, sparkling to life.

_The mountains mingle with the River_

_And the Rivers with the Ocean,_

_The winds of Heaven mix for ever_

_With a sweet emotion;_

_Nothing in the world is single,_

_All things by a law divine_

_In one spirit meet and mingle -_

_Why not I with thine?_

The potions master's distinctive voice drifted around the hall; ears pricked up to listen. The other professors looked on with ill-disguised surprise. The headmaster and his deputy traded meaningful glances with each other. Acerbic, disagreeable Severus Snape would never do such a thing of that they were certain. But they were equally sure that the figure to whom all eyes were now turned was not Severus Snape.

_See the mountains kiss high Heaven_

_And the waves clasp one another;_

_No sister-flower would be forgiven_

_If it disdained its brother;_

_And the sunlight clasps the earth,_

_And the moon beams kiss the sea -_

_What is all this sweet work worth_

_If thou kiss not me?_

Snape closed the book almost reverently. He stood up straight and addressed Ron directly. "What does that mean to you now?"

"When you read it that way, I see it as a confession of sorts of why a person needs to love." Ron answered thoughtfully. "A natural need to find the missing half or mate of yourself. The reader is trying to get someone to understand why it's so important to him or her."

"Very good, Weasley, in future, do try to look beyond the obvious." With a curt nod, the Potions Master stalked out of the Great Hall.

He was blissfully unaware of the appreciative murmurs and pointed glances trailing his wake. Female students whispered and giggled as they left the hall. The Slytherins were seen to be muttering in low, dark tones. Quite a few had suspicious looks on their faces. Their head of house never gave the Gryffindors much consideration. His uncharacteristic behaviour was therefore unsettling.

"Well, Ron, your special delivery owl just left the hall," said a grinning Lavender.

"Yeah, the git was pretty good, wasn't he?" Ron looked back at Lavender. "Who knew?"

"Just when you think you know the man." Hermione murmured to herself gathering her books and heading off to her Arithmancy class.

* * *

Later that evening Professor Snape sifted through essays and exams in his office. His eyes strayed now and then to a student table holding a strategic position in front of his own desk. Commanding the center of the table as well as the eye's attention was an untidy pyramid of letters almost two meters high in varying shades of pink, purple, fuchsia and red. A cream and silver envelope was singularly obvious. To the room's occupant it was a damning reminder of his lapse of judgment and control in the Hall that morning. 

The classroom door opened admitting the headmaster and deputy headmistress. McGonagall approached the pyramid. She could not resist teasing her colleague, "I see Valentines Day has come early for you, Severus."

Snape gestured in the direction of the table. "This merely illustrates absolutely the addle-brained tendencies of teenagers. Mix some hormones with that and you have this ... this pile of misdirected sentiment."

Walking around the desk, McGonagall examined the pile with great curiosity. "The recitation was certainly unexpected, Severus. You can hardly blame the students for their reactions or the owls that bombarded you at dinner."

"I can only blame myself," Snape pinned McGonagall with an unwavering look of disgust. "And Creevey for taking that picture!"

McGonagall caught herself between indignation and a snort "Mr. Creevey only took the picture for the annual yearbook. Need I remind you that it was one of your house who actually sent a copy of your poetic rendition to the Prophet's gossip editor. How unfortunate for you that it came in time for the afternoon edition."

"Witches do love a sensitive poet, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "How many marriage proposals have you received so far?"

Snape fairly growled. "Malfoy will be serving a week of detention with Filch. The Prophet has assured me a retraction in tomorrow's edition."

Not enough of a masochist to endure more amorous owl posts in public, Snape had redirected deliveries to the Hogwarts general posting bin. The posting bin was magically sorted and the mail delivered directly to the recipient's office or, in his case, the letters were delivered to the growing pyramid on the desk.

As if to counterpoint the headmaster's comment, several letters appeared hovering over the pile before gently cascading over the sides of the paper mountain. Minerva watched the event; a wry smile graced her lips. She spied postmarks from all over the British isles. They were addressed by flowing feminine hands to "Professor S Snape" or "The Poet of Hogwarts."

"So, Severus, what will you do for an encore?" Dumbledore eyed the pile himself.

"The only thing I can do - live happily ever after," said Snape.

Both McGonagall and Dumbledore let out full-throated guffaws both at his words and the long suffering look on Snape's face. Snape stood up and walked over to stand next to the headmaster and headmistress.

McGonagall took out her wand, "Cirqua Anomi."

The tip of her wand glowed an iridescent blue. The classroom door shut fast and locked itself magically and physically. Thin strands of fiery golden energy streamed rapidly out of her wand coalescing and joining end to end as undulating bands enclosing the three humans within. Even in Hogwarts only a Circle of Anomi assured complete privacy and security.

Dumbledore began their impromptu meeting. "I hope that this recent development will have no adverse effect on your work, Severus?"

"I do not plan on further lapses certainly not in public," Snape answered. "My other projects are progressing."

"We're doing what we can but it seems to be going too slowly," Concern radiated from McGonagall's eyes. "Perhaps, some temporary teachers can take on the early year course work freeing up our time for our assignments."

"A sound idea, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "I shall owl the university in the morning to see if they can send us some graduate students. Severus, you will take an assistant. I will take no objections on this."

"As you wish, Albus, Filius should have two assistants though. He has been expending his energy the longest of all of us."

"Yes, that is unfortunate but unavoidable."

"Vector and the Hogsmeade group are ahead of schedule." McGonagall informed them. "They will be done this week. He's turned into quite a taskmaster I'm told."

Severus chuckled. "Yes, Sinistra had some choice words for Vector's metamorphosis from mild-mannered introvert to assertive, driven risk taker."

"We all rise to the occasion in different ways," Dumbledore grinned. "When is the next shipment due?"

Minerva consulted her notes before saying, "The next delivery will be in four days time. Is that enough time to make preparations, Severus?"

Severus' eyes grew wide but he only said, "It will have to be. I shall inform the Baron and Filch."

"Very good," Dumbledore clapped his hands together.

The Circle slowly began to shimmer and sparkle bathing the room in a golden dawn. The strands disconnected from each other dissolving one after the other. The meeting was at an end.

* * *

The farmhouse had been deserted for so long that day or night no one paid it much attention. Its gray clapboard siding had long since forgotten the touch of paint. The house now stood exposed to the elements seemingly helpless and vulnerable. Set within a copse of trees, it was not visible from the road and even a casual airborne observer would have been hard pressed to see it as more than just another abandoned house. Tonight, it was the perfect site for another meeting with a more unsavory purpose. 

On the earthen floor inside was a well-defined pentagram. Its lines were gouged deep into the earth forming an unbroken channel. Within its earthen furrows, a dark viscous liquid roiled and steamed. An upright robed figure held court in the middle of the pentagram. The figure commanded two others standing outside the pentagram, "Report!"

"Master, we have located the Dursleys' home," said a short, sniveling man in shabby, gray robes. "Our sources confirm that Potter stays with them every summer.

"And?" prodded the master.

"We have identified all the protective wards about the place. Our counter spells will be ready before the summer."

"What of the girl's family?"

Wormtail hesitated before going on in a tremulous voice, "Ah, we have not been able to determine their location yet but soon, master, we will -"

"Get out there and find them! Do not come back until you have better news!" Voldemort turned his attention to the other figure. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Lucius Malfoy bowed to his master. With a look of pure satisfaction, Lucius dragged an unconscious human form towards the pentagram. Taking a long curved knife in hand he slit his victim's throat. Both master and disciple watched in perverse fascination as the blood flooded into the pentagram's grooves. Mingling with the blood of past victims, the fresh, bright red blood soon turned black and brackish. In this way, the victim contributed to sustaining the Dark Lord's physical presence. As the stream slowed to a mere trickle, Malfoy tossed the body towards the hearth by Nagini's nest.

"My thanks for thinking about Nagini, Lucius. The body is still warm, " Voldemort looked on with favor at Lucius Malfoy. "You remembered that she only likes live kills."

This meeting too came to an end.


	2. In the Deepest Midnight

**Chapter 2 **

**In the Deepest Midnight**

After midnight, the Forbidden Forest was definitely not a favourable or proper destination for the faint hearted, the stupidly brave, the embarrassingly ignorant, the darkly suicidal or even the casually psychotic. No, the forest could only appeal to those souls conscripted to a cause then blindly assigned a task that few would undertake let alone volunteer for. Fortunately, the saying "there's a sucker born every minute" applies to volunteers readily enough.

"I'm telling you, Sibyl, that draw was rigged." Madam Hooch looked to her right and could just barely make out the outline of her assigned partner, Professor Trelawney, crouched on her knees in front of several scraggly bushes.

As a precaution, Hooch had two brooms hovering beside her ready to take her and Trelawney out of the forest at the first sign of trouble. Several glowing orbs floated around the two of them. They gave off an eerie orange glow; it was enough light to see by but not too much as to be conspicuous to the forest's nocturnal inhabitants.

Snape had said that gathering leaves and berries off a dopple plant was tedious but relatively easy. He had not lied. However, Snape had neglected to mention that the bushes grew at the bottom of a steep ravine deep in the forest on a small fairy mound around which only minimal magic was possible and that the plants themselves were only visible for one hour after midnight. These obscure but vital details had come courtesy of Professor Sprout.

"Just be glad you're not on Vector's team," Trelawney replied expertly clipping leaves and berries off a small bush that seemed to sway as if alive. Her dragon hide-clad hands were bulky making the work go very slowly. "Sinistra always comes back completely exhausted."

The forest was growing silent and Hooch's nerves were beginning to get nicely stretched. "Come on, hurry up."

"I'm picking as fast as I can." Trelawney finished the first bush and moved to begin plucking black and gray berries off the second bush. She shoved a bulging canvas bag at Hooch.

Hooch secured the second bag on one of the waiting brooms. "We have two full bags. That should be enough."

"No. Severus said he needs at least three bags." Trelawney dropped berries into the third bag laying wide open beside her. "Ow! Stop poking at me!"

"Ah, Sibyl, I'm not touching you." Hooch looked about the bushes.

The seer recoiled in mid scream as a gnarled, grayish appendage protruding from under the second bush grazed her knee. Trelawney batted the creature away while clutching her gathering bag to her chest. Moving with Quidditch honed reflexes, Hooch grabbed Trelawney's arm pulling her away from the bush. A stream of red energy erupted from Hooch's wand hitting the creature directly. The creature retreated back under its bush.

"Definitely time to go. Come on, Sybil !"

"No! Our hour is not done yet. I will leave only after I have enough." Sybil pulled her arm away from Hooch's death grip. She ignored the flyer's disbelieving eyes.

"You're going to wait for a second appearance of that thing?!" Hooch exclaimed. "We don't even know what it is."

"If it comes back, just shoot it again," Trelawney opened up her bag and checked her gloves. She took a deep, cleansing breath, crouched down and began picking berries and leaves as before.

Hooch had learned to trust her instincts and her instincts were all in absolute agreement on an orderly but rapid retreat to the castle right now. "What the hell has gotten into you?!"

Resigning herself to an edgy vigil, Hooch conjured a few more light orbs to illuminate the faerie mound. Whatever Snape planned to use these berries for had better be good Hooch thought.

* * *

Tuesday dawned slightly cloudy. The sun made numerous valiant attempts to break through. One such attempt sent a stream of sunshine into the main entrance hall illuminating the four huge hourglasses that recorded the various house points. Unseen high up on the main staircase, Dumbledore and McGonagall observed as students ambled by the hourglasses on their way to breakfast. More than one student did a double take as the numbers registered in their sleepy minds.

A self-satisfied almost predatory smile appeared on the headmaster's face and he said in slow measured tones, "Better than I expected. We must congratulate Severus on a job well done."

McGonagall nodded. "Since the points are going to a good cause, I hope he will be more inclined to give points."

"I fear your hope is in vain, Minerva."

Below then, several students stood looking intently at the hourglasses. The students were alternately appalled and amused that all the houses had lost so many points overnight. Gryffindor was less one hundred points; Slytherin sixty. Ravenclaw was reduced by forty-five points losing its hold on the house points lead.. Hufflepuff gained ground against all the other houses by losing only ten points.

"This is not funny," said Seamus Finnigan gazing at the Gryffindor hourglass with a mixture of affection and fury. "Who lost us so many points? Anyone have detention with Snape or Filch last night?"

"Not that I know of," answered Dean Thomas. "Come to think of it, we haven't had too many detentions lately. Either we're not doing enough things wrong or the teachers are getting lazy."

"But a hundred points, really." Finnigan persisted. He looked at the hourglass as if trying to will back 100 points.

Neville Longbottom had also been looking at the hourglasses while listening to Dean and Finnigan. He innocently remarked, "Every one of us was in our dorm room last night. Um, perhaps someone was caught snogging?"

"A hundred points is a bit more than just snogging!" Thomas exclaimed. He'd noticed that their subjects were getting harder and harder. Even Hermione had been uncharacteristically befuddled on a question or two. McGonagall and Flitwick had become almost as demanding as Snape on a good day.

Finnigan looked worried. "Well, it wasn't me and my ... my date! We didn't run into McGonagall, Snape or even Mrs Norris, I swear it."

"Was it worth a hundred points?"

"Only if we'd been caught!" said Finnigan with a naughty smile. Both Dean and Neville burst out laughing. All three left the main hall and headed to breakfast. "I still want to know where those points went. If this keeps up I'm going to speak up at the next house meeting with McGonagall."

It wasn't only the Gryffindors who were concerned about disappearing house points. Everyone in Slytherin had been roused by their head of house early that morning for an immediate all house meeting in the common room. Displaying no sympathy for his charges' early morning fogginess, Snape had matter of factly informed them of the points lost by the house.

He repeatedly impressed upon them all the need to do their best and avoid losing any more points. Then, in his most vitriolic manner, he faced the prefects and coldly questioned his house's resolve to win the House Cup. Snape addressed each and every Slytherin who had lost points during the week. His comments to these lucky individuals stopped short of name-calling and slander but only just. Slytherin house was justly alarmed and shamed. Incensed, the prefects had required each of them to take a look at the hourglasses this morning.

Off to the side peering at the Slytherin hourglass, Draco Malfoy had deliberately overheard every word of the Gryffindors' conversation. He knew that 20 points had been deducted because of him giving the Snape photograph to the Prophet but he was bewildered as to the remaining 40 points. He had been out and about the castle last night enjoying some much needed private time away from Crabbe and Goyle. He was sure that no one had followed him. _Someone must know what I'm doing. That's the only explanation. _

Slytherin had started losing points overnight two weeks ago but never more that what was lost last night. Draco vowed to be more careful. He decided to test out his theory by not straying from the comforts of the Slytherin common room tonight. Draco's reverie was broken by the boisterous entrance of the Gryffindor Quidditch team returning from a very early practice session.

Breakfast was unremarkable save for the subdued air around the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The absence of Professors Sprout, Snape and Vector were not duly noted. The late bedraggled arrival of Professor Sinistra garnered many sympathetic looks from her colleagues. Before the end of breakfast, Dumbledore stood up and all conversations stopped.

"I'd like to announce a few things this morning," the headmaster's voice was strong, less whispery than normal. "Prefects, plan on meeting with your respective head of house at four this afternoon. The Head Boy and Girl will meet with me at the same time. There will be a staff meeting after dinner at eight o'clock and all staff members are expected to attend. I should also add that this Thursday all students will be exempt from their normal classes."

Cheers and scattered clapping greeted this announcement but Dumbledore's next words left many speechless. "On Thursday, Hogwarts will be hosting a group of Aurors and Unspeakables. They will be lecturing and holding practical seminars on various topics. Students from first, second and third year will be required to attend at least three lectures. Each student fourth year and above are required to attend at least three lectures and one seminar of their choice. Sign up sheets will be posted at lunchtime. Thank you."

Dumbledore heard his deputy's whisper, "Albus, tell them about the practical."

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention that those taking a practical seminar will be tested and graded on your level of proficiency before the end of the year. I suggest you give your choice of seminar some thought. That is all." Dumbledore resumed his seat.

A few seconds of silence followed. Pieces of parchment appeared over the house tables and floated down to eager hands. The parchment detailed out the upcoming lectures and seminars. Then abruptly the sound level spiked to near ear damaging decibel levels as students alternated pondering, pontificating and protesting loudly and at length at this new development. Comments echoed through the hall.

"Oh, gods, another exam, it not as though we don't have enough to do!"

"Wandless Magic - Fact or Fiction sounds interesting."

"Look at that - Ancient Curses the Road Less Travelled - seems downright dangerous to me!"

"Surrounded with No Wand, No Problem, what's this about physical training?!"

Suffice it to say the students were severely distracted during their classes.

* * *

An hour later the Gryffindor fifth years tramped into the potions classroom en masse for double potions with the Slytherins who were already present. Their books lay open and all were madly scribbling on their parchments. Hermione, instantly on alert, took one glance at the blackboard and practically levitated to her desk pulling out her potions book before reaching her desk. Harry, Ron and the rest of the now panicky Gryffindors stood as one paralyzed with dread.

Rooted to the spot where they stood they looked up and read the blackboard's missive "Place on my desk in 30 minutes - a 200 word essay on the properties of the mixture known as Consula Econtra. After your essay is complete, brew the Consula Econtra. Ingredients are available on the side work tables. At the end of class, it will be administered and tested." The Gryffindors fell over each other trying to get to their desks. It was a supremely industrious class for thirty minutes.

Were the class not so busy, the more inquisitive among them would have wondered where their potions master had gotten to. At that very moment, in the Divination classroom, Snape chuckled in appreciative amusement as he saw, through the scrying glass, the mad scramble in his classroom below. "I can see why you have no need to venture down very often, Sibyl."

"I find it is far more satisfying to laugh in private," Trelawney commented dryly. She rose from her chair. "Severus, I wanted to talk to you because I must confess to some fear regarding the effects of this creation of yours. As a seer, I am used to using the inner eye to see what others do not see. However, I have never trained that eye onto myself. Will I be strong enough to resist my more baser instincts?"

"It won't magnify the bad, I assure you. It is as benevolent as a patronus with some added tangible benefits. You must always remember that you are controlling it not the other way around. In time, you will get used to it."

"I will have to at least until you can invent a separation mechanism." Trelawney replied. She leaned precariously on the edge of her desk arms enfolded looking at Snape. Her eyes were glassy with fear making a lie of her pretence at bravery. Without the ever-present shroud about her face or the heavy clouds of incense swirling around the room, the divination teacher looked rather vulnerable and slight. "Well, I could do no worse than your poetry reading, can I?"

Snape winced. "I will never live that down. Let it be a lesson to you on the consequences of relaxing your guard. However, if you like, you may delay taking the potion or participating in the ritual until after you've had time to observe the others."

"When Dumbledore asked for volunteers I was flattered to be considered. I am well aware that I lie at the bottom of everyone's expectations. I have done few things for the benefit of others but I have accepted this charge and will see it through. I will take your poison and subject myself to the ritual along with the others but I thank you for the offer."

A few minutes later, Severus Snape, potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood just outside of the open doorway to his domain surreptitiously surveying the all too quiet class. Dutifully sitting on his desk were the two parchments he had expected to be turned in early. He looked at the owners of the parchments in turn. Ms. Granger was already well into the second phase of the brewing as she carefully added shredded green saguaro cactus bark to her cauldron. Malfoy was not too far behind as he added ground dragon's nails to his cauldron and then stirred in the appropriate counter clockwise motion. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Neville Longbottom turning in his essay. "Well, this has been a day full of surprises," Snape thought to himself. "And its not even noon yet."

He waited a few more minutes until Longbottom had returned to his desk with arms laden with ingredients. Snape strode towards his desk not looking left nor right but fully aware of the heightened tension and audible gasps he left in his wake. He consciously sought to unnerve the students more by remaining absolutely silent as the hourglass showed the time remaining until the essays were all due.

Snape picked up the first scroll and saw the cream and silver envelope lying flat on his desk. It was the lone survivor of the bonfire he had lit this morning. A bonfire fed and incited by the love sick letters he'd so far received. He had had every intention of reading the letter before class but it slipped from his mind after receiving Trelawney's request to talk to him. Well, he had no time now. He took the envelope and placed it inside one of his desk drawers for safekeeping.

The last bits of sand fell to the bottom half of the hourglass. The hourglass glowed bright red several times. Knowing it was useless to ask for more time, students began to line up in front of Snape's desk depositing their essays with the air of long dead martyrs.

Snape sat behind his desk, elbows on the table and looked at the glass through steepled hands. "Ms. Parkinson, tell us briefly, what is the Consula Econtra?"

Pansy Parkinson stood up and began to recite what she could remember from her essay. "The Consula Econtra is a potion that causes the affected person to do the exact opposite of whatever they intended to do, feel or say. The potion does not force the person to do anything against their will instead it takes the intended action, emotion or thought and reverses it in some way acceptable to the affected person. It is not widely used as its effects are unpredictable and serves no real practical purpose. Its name means "to reflect the opposite."

"Take ten points, Ms Parkinson," Snape continued. "I will add that the efficacy of this potion is entirely dependent on the power of the creator. The effect could last a few minutes, an hour or much longer. To this day there is no known antidote. Take the next hour to finish your potions. Five points each to Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Longbottom for finishing their essays early. At the end of class, you three will be testing the potions created by, let me see, Mr. Potter, Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Goyle. The rest of you will each fill a vial full of your potion and place your labelled vial on the test rack."

Snape was gratified to know that he had not lost his touch. Longbottom was equally thrilled and dismayed at his points. Success was never rewarded in potions class. Malfoy stared at the madly grinning Finnigan who was now enthusiastically pounding and grounding up hippogriff scales. Dean and Ron whispered encouragement along the lines of ".. take it to Malfoy but good, do Gryffindor proud." Harry triple checked his recipe list against the small pile of ingredients on his worktable. He had made sure to chop and slice carefully knowing that he had to make this potion perfectly for both his sake and Hermione's. He glared at Snape patrolling the classroom. Harry decided that the git would never give him a break.

Hermione peered into her cauldron long and hard. The potion did not look bad, smell bad, bubble menacingly or even smoke. It had cooled to a pudding like viscosity. Her potion was a deep brown with flecks of white and smelling like, god help her, dark Swiss chocolate. She was convinced that she had made it wrong. Potions were not supposed to turn out like this. The book didn't say it was supposed to be this dark or smell so heavenly. It triggered every craving she'd ever had. She was so preoccupied rereading the textbook that she failed to see Snape looking down at her expectantly.

"You have created it correctly, Ms. Granger." Snape said from behind her. "By how dark it is, I judge that you have made yourself a very potent batch. For once your abilities have served you well."

"Good, I'd hate to lose more points for Gryffindor." It was the first thing that came to her mind. Hermione colored furiously. Snape did not notice her discomfiture having already moved on to his next victim. Hermione spent the remainder of the hour mentally berating herself for being three kinds of fool wrapped into one. What did she expect? Surely not a reward for her impertinence. What had she been thinking? _Ninety-five more points to go_.

At the end of the hour, Hermione, Draco and Neville stood in front of the class each holding a small, transparent bowl. Snape nodded and the three began to stir their mixtures with their spoons as instructed. Hermione looked at the deep brown colour in her bowl. She nodded at Harry and quickly swallowed a spoonful. A pleasing heat began to spread throughout her body and she was very relaxed.

Beside her Draco looked at his bowl dubiously trying to ignore the sniggering from the Gryffindors. It did not have the deep dark brown hue like Hermione's had..

"Malfoy!" Snape barked. "We do not have all day."

Draco took a deep breath and lifted a spoonful of the light brown liquid to his lips and swallowed. His body began to tingle. His hands and feet grew warm.

Neville was having the same doubts as Draco as he gazed at the tapioca colored substance in his bowl. But Neville had proven himself worthy of the mantel of Gryffindor many times before. He stirred his bowl, scooped up a spoonful and swallowed. Neville sighed with relief. He felt nothing more than a slight tingling of his fingertips and reddening of his nose.

Snape looked at each one of the test subjects. He began the test. "Ms. Granger, walk to the door, swear aloud and slam the door shut."

Hermione's face displayed a look of helpless fury as her body disobeyed her mind and immediately sat down on the floor. As the potion affected emotion as well as action, her anger and embarrassment had the opposite effect. Sitting on the floor, she gasped breathlessly as her body generated a pleasurable rush of hormones and electrical impulses. A quiet moan drifted from her lips. Surmising her unexpected reaction, Snape moved quickly to stand in front of Hermione. His long black robes gave her some much needed privacy.

"Malfoy, insult Weasley!"

Draco's body jerked forward until he stood face to face with Ron. Draco shot Snape an imploring look right before his right hand pulled at Ron's neck. Their lips met. It was more a peck than a kiss. Ron's sense of survival came to the fore and he pushed Draco away. All the Slytherins and Gryffindors dissolved into giggling hysteria. Draco collapsed into an empty chair trying to regain feeling in knees that had inexplicably gone wobbly. Ron glowered at Finnigan.

Snape turned his attention to Neville next. "Longbottom, jump up and down."

Neville jumped only once. The potion had worn off immediately. His nose felt normal again.

Professor Snape sighed, "Five points to all the testers and brewers." He turned around to check on Hermione. "Potter, Longbottom, take Granger and Malfoy to the infirmary. I will inform Madam Pomfrey not to release them until tomorrow. Now, get out all of you!"

One look at Ron's furious face was all the reason Finnigan needed to be the first out of the classroom. Ron bolted out after him. Dean picked up Seamus' books while shouting at Ron to have mercy. Harry helped Hermione up from the floor. She was looking dazed but her eyes were bright and she was smiling a big toothy grin. Neville approached Draco cautiously not bothering to help him up. The foursome trooped to the infirmary.

Snape locked the classroom door. He removed Ms. Granger and Potter's test vials from the rack and carried them into his private work area. Of the entire class, theirs were the darkest and he needed the most potent combination available. "Useless, indeed."

His cauldron simmered on the burner sending up tendrils of silvery smoke. On the table sat three bulging bags of dopple berries and leaves. He poured two bags of dopple berries into another cauldron then smashed the berries into pulp. He poured the silvery contents of his cauldron over the berry pulp. He raised up the fire and set the new mixture to a rapid boil. As the mixture turned dark red, he added the two vials of Consula Econtra and lowered the flame.

Snape only had a few hours to complete the potion in time for the staff meeting. He had much more to do before the staff meeting.


	3. Demons in the Shadows

**  


Chapter 3

  
  


Demons in the Shadows

  
**

  
  
Madam Pomfrey watched from the doorway wand at the ready alert for anything amiss - a plume of noxious gas, energy erupting from the cauldron, an incantation gone amiss, anything - anything at all. She had guarded his back once before unasked but not unacknowledged. She had realized then that one could become almost hypnotized watching a master at work be it a conductor, a surgeon, or in this case, a potions master. Masters exuded an intensity that trapped the unwary audience in a cocoon of complacency aware of nothing but that which held them enthralled. She had fallen into just such a moment's inattention two weeks ago; the lapse had nearly cost them both their lives. Today she had spells, charms and hexes enough to heal, to kill or to enslave, if things came to that. 

Madam Pomfrey did not dare look away as Snape exerted all his knowledge, power and ruthlessness to control the vile, dense smoky man-like presence imprisoned within the master's spherical maelstrom of scorching energy. The parademon writhed in frustration screaming in shrill fury as its life force slowly ebbed away absorbed by its very prison. Yet, all through its torment, a watchful eye it did keep on the mortal for any weakness to exploit. All the mortals it had known before were weak and vain. Earlier the demon had sought some easy purchase to deceive this dark one but it had failed. The demon then caviled and cajoled for its release but still the mortal stood firm. The demon decided to further test his captor's resolve by appealing to that very mortal of failings - love.

The demon focused its will leeching every yearning thought, whispered wish and act of love from his captor's mind and heart. The demon crowed in glee for this mortal had not enough love as recompense for the pain, loneliness and guilt that festered within his soul. Gathering its remaining strength, the demon hurled its last weapon - a flashing stream of images taken from Snape's mind. The demon magnified and augmented the memories with his captor's most ardent desires and most heinous sins. The weapon met little resistance. But it was ineffective for it was enveloped within the master's stoic acceptance of what he was, what he is. The images grew transparent before dissolving into finely grained sand which rained down on to the dungeon floor. Ceding the victory to his captor, the demon ceased its frantic movements and kneeled. It surrendered with one whispered word, bowed and vanished. Snape fell to his knees in exhaustion but his black eyes shone bright with exultation. He had demanded and won the most precious thing to any of the hellspawn - it's true name. His demon slave was named "Velos."

Pomfrey shielded her eyes and uttered the words to transfer all the absorbed demonic energy from the energy cell into the simmering cauldron on Snape's worktable. As the energy was transferred, the energy cell became smaller and smaller finally sparking one last time before dissipating completely. Quickly, she added two drops of phoenix's tears. Waving her wand over the cauldron, she said the spell Severus had created just for this occasion. "Intra Suspenso exta Tempore." 

The potion congealed to a mesmerizing silver with random swirls of violet and gold. Confident that the volatile potion was now safely suspended until it could be dealt with, she turned to Severus and met his eyes. Both their faces burst into wide grins. As Snape's shoulders sagged in fatigue, Pomfrey put his left arm around her neck and wrapped her right arm around his waist. With her help and the remnants of his own strength, they made it to his quarters. As they entered, Snape began to tremble. Perspiration dripped from his forehead. A vein pulsed angrily on his forehead. His control finally shattered giving full rein to the shock and stress that battered his psyche and body. 

Pomfrey removed his outer robe as she helped him into bed. She wiped the perspiration off his forehead, placed a warming spell on the bed and started a crackling fire in the hearth. Snape twitched and shuddered as the matron recited a series of healing spells over him. She tapped his forehead gently and waited. Her patience was rewarded when a silvery, wraith-like shadow emerged from the prone body of the potions master. In profile, the shadow had the same height, figure, hooked nose, thin lips and strong chin as his primogenitor but the face in general seemed younger and the hair was long and sleekly tied back in a ponytail.

"Make sure he sleeps now, won't you? And none of your usual mischief, " Pomfrey instructed. The guardian nodded and took a seat in an armchair by the fire. "Inform him that I've suspended the potion until later. I will return in exactly 3 hours and assist in the final preparations. If you surmise anything happening with him call me or Dumbledore immediately. Give me your word on that. " 

The shadow stood up, made to cross his heart and raised an open palm. "You have my word as Snape." 

Satisfied, the nurse left and headed for the main hall.

Before lunch the entrance hall was packed with students adding their names to the various lists posted on the walls. As names were added, the parchments magically elongated to accommodate more. Hermione filled in her name on four lectures and three seminars. Harry was the first to sign up for "Surrounded, No Wand, No Problem - Wandless Self Defense" and "Defensive Flying Skills." Ron enthusiastically signed up for "Wizards Chess Battle Strategies Applied to Real Life." The Slytherins passed around the sign up list for the lecture called "Practical Advantages of the Dark Arts" among themselves. "Theoretical Vectors and Variants in Strategies" was popular with the Ravenclaws. Meanwhile "A Guide to Self Discovery and Stress Management" was over full with Hufflepuffs.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to stand next to Dumbledore who was watching the milling students. His face was grim as he heard her report. 

"It's done, Albus, and none too soon. Severus picked a stubborn one. He's sleeping right now and being watched." Albus cocked an eyebrow at her to which she replied. "You just have to appeal to its sense of honor and chivalry."

Three hours later, Pomfrey entered Snape's quarters with a food-laden tray. She almost dropped the tray at the sight that greeted her. The wraith was reclined on a chair by the bed reading aloud from a book. Snape had his eyes closed listening. It sounded like poetry to her. She said rather loudly, "Severus, I've brought lunch."

"Thank you, Poppy," Snape stretched out his arms and ran a hand through his hair. Pomfrey placed the tray on his bed.

"Well, eat up while I prepare the vials," Pomfrey left Snape to his meal and headed for the private workroom.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Snape called to her departing figure. The wraith looked at the tray curiously. It could not smell or taste so food was merely a concept to it. "Well, back in you go." 

Snape breathed in deeply and tried to relax as he once again felt the warm but clammy sensation whenever his shadow returned to himself. _ We're going to be together for the rest of my life. I suppose I will get used to even this eventually._


	4. Consula Econtra

**  


Chapter 4

  
  


Consula Econtra

  
**

  
Very few potions glowed let alone shone in a multitude of twinkling colors as this one did. Each vial seemed to contain a cloudy substance that alternated between purple, red, gold, white, gray and blue percolating and shifting very like the Northern Lights captured and bottled. If a potion could be called beautiful, then this one would easily qualify as such. It even smelled good - sweet and floral. A few Hogwarts staff members held one in their hand. 

For all the potion's outer beauty and appeal, none of holders could mistake the lingering presence of dark magic nor ignore the almost overpowering sensation of raw magical energy. Eyes followed the potions master as he finished giving individually labeled vials to each of the volunteers - McGonagal, Flitwick, Trelawney, Filch, Sinistra, Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Sprout, Vector and Pince. Hooch, Hagrid and the rest of the staff looked on curious but also somewhat relieved that they had not been called upon to volunteer. 

"Before we begin I would like to fully disclose what it is that you are all being asked to commit to. First, Severus will explain the exact nature of the potion and its long-term effects. Then I will ask each of the volunteers in turn if they wish to continue." 

Dumbledore looked at all the volunteers one by one before motioning to Snape to begin. "Severus?"

Snape stood up and walked to the front of the room in front of the hearth. Hands behind his back, he seemed lost in thought for some time before beginning. "Consula Econtra is a potion that is widely known in the modern world as a useless, ancient curiosity. An ancient Egyptian alchemist devised this potion, however, he never finished his notes completely and only a partial description of the potion was ever found. The alchemist mysteriously disappeared. Its effect is to make the recipient do the absolute opposite of whatever the recipient is instructed to do. For example, if the request goes against the morality and ethics of the intended, then the potion finds an action or response that is not against that person's nature and carries out that action. No one has ever found a way to use it for any practical purpose or discovered its true purpose until now.

Snape took a deep breath before continuing. "Some time ago, I came into possession of some additional research into this potion. It was discovered that this potion in its most elementary form had been used as part of ancient incantations to bind demons to inanimate objects. These objects were imbued with all the evil and power of whatever hellspawn was bound to it. The reflective nature of the potion prevented the demon's escape by forcing it to want to stay within the object. In this way was the demon transformed into a willing, cooperative slave." At hearing this several of the volunteers placed their vials carefully and respectfully back onto the table

"For some time now, I have worked to find ways to prepare for Voldemort's eventual attack on Hogwarts. He is coming and it is only a matter of time." Snape swept a glance at all in the room. "I was ... was intrigued by the research and began to study the Consula Econtra. I altered the original version of Consula Econtra combining it with a new potion using dopple berries. I then pieced together the ancient incantations and ritual. I made the alteration such that a demon would not be permanently bound, instead, the demon's energy would be channeled into a more benign, artifical construct. In effect, the demon would lend some of its life energy and this energy would be used to endow the construct with energy and minimal sentience. This construct, while tainted by the demon's aura, would be magically resistant to dark magic and curses.

His audience watched spellbound as soul-damning word after soul-damning word fell from his lips. He had just admitted that he had invoked and used dark magic of his own free will and volition. They all knew that even dabbling casually with the dark forces had a price and many negative after effects. No one wanted to think about what it must have cost Snape to create this potion or what it was still costing him. 

Perspiration began to bead on Snape's face but he continued in a voice gone hoarse and tremulous. "About two weeks ago, I succeeded in summoning a demon. However, my potion was not completely stable. The demon was transformed and imprisoned in my ... my chosen object accidentally and, I believe, permanently. Fortunately, the transformation was successful and the … the entity no longer harbors any evil intent or aura. It is quite innocent and childlike actually."

"Severus, you have killed a demon. If I remember my ancient magic texts correctly, it could not have been just any ordinary demon. Am I right?" asked Sinistra looking Snape straight in the eye. "And where is this demon now?"

Snape placed both hands against the fireplace mantel as if trying to garner strength and support from the stone hearth. He gazed unwaveringly at the leaping flames. "I felt it necessary to duplicate the same ancient incantation and ritual as well as have the most energy and power available. Therefore, I had no choice but to summon a demon that was nearly as old or older than the original Consula Econtra - a thousand year old demon, to be exact. And, yes, I wiped its presence out of existence and will likely be paying for that transgression for whatever is left of my life. As to where it is - "

Dumbledore interrupted Snape with a voice that was steel encased in raspy velvet. "Where it is, is irrelevant believe me. The demon is in no position or condition to harm anyone here nor does it pose a threat to Hogwarts in any way. It is no longer even a demon per se. Continue, Severus."

The potions master had not changed position. He stared at the flames as if hypnotized. He continued in a more distant voice. "I have stabilized and refined the potion as well as the mechanism to summon the necessary demon. This morning another demon was summoned. I took most of its life energy and transferred that energy into a potion. A few hours ago, I conjured the elemental constructs and joined them with the potion. With Poppy's help, we decanted individual potions for each of the volunteers using the personal items donated last week. In effect, ingesting the potion will transfer the construct to your own bodies. This construct and the potion will give you two things - a living, intelligent shield against most spells, hexes and curses including limiting the effects of Imperius and Cruciatus, and, secondly, you will have available to you at least three times the normal amount of magical energy that you normally have. This will cause your spells, even the simplest ones, to be too powerful and unstable until you adjust and learn to control."

Dumbledore held up his own vial and said, "This is the best weapon we have against Voldemort. You were chosen based on your psychological balance and strength of identity. You are now being asked to share your life with a completely alien entity for which you must change your behavior and life. Each volunteer's partner will be responsible in helping the volunteer during the adjustment period. A partner's role and responsibility is not secondary to the volunteer's; never think that. Both the volunteer and the partner must work together to achieve success. Based on what I know of Severus' experiences, it will not be easy and may often times be dangerous as we are dealing with very old and primitive magicks. I want all of you, volunteers and partners, to take some time to think about your choices. We will all reconvene in thirty minutes."

Several staff members left the staff room to think and decide in solitude. But some stayed where they were their decision already made - Dumbledore, McGonagall, Filch, Trelawney, Hagrid and Sinistra. Snape finally took a seat sinking gratefully into an armchair by the fire. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. Sinistra came over with a cup of tea and offered it to him. He accepted and asked, "You're not afraid?"

"Excited actually. Of what use am I just gazing at the stars every night? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't going to come down from the skies. This way I can make a difference and gain a lifetime companion as well. Two for the price of one, I can't lose." Sinistra joked but her eyes had an intense light that he had never seen before. "I take it you're not taking a potion?"

"Why ask when you already know or suspect the answer already," Snape looked at her with new respect taking a careful sip of his tea. "It is not unpleasant. In fact, it feels as if I had a second self. My better half you might say."

"And you let it out to play now and then." Sinistra looked back at him over the rim of her teacup. "That wasn't really you in the Great Hall making the girls swoon over a few lines of poetry, was it?"

"I don't know what was me and wasn't me. The construct is not a different entity. I believe that it adapts itself to the host taking some of its qualities and sensibilities from the host. I was aware of what I was doing, yet, I couldn't help myself. I had to stop Weasley's iambic butchering."

Snape and Sinistra shared a quiet laugh just as the others were coming back in and getting to their seats. At the head of the table Dumbledore stood up. "I will call out every volunteer's name and each volunteer will look at me and say Yay or Nay. Let us begin. Professor McGonagall!"

The deputy headmistress responded with a firm "Yay!" 

"Professor Flitwick!" 

The charms professor rubbed his hands in anticipation "Yes, let's get on with it." 

"Professor Trelawney!" 

The diviner answered with a soft but firm "Yay!" 

"Mr. Filch!" 

The caretaker looked nervous but his voice came out with a strong "I will!" 

"Professor Sinistra!" 

The astromer, eyes shining, said, "Oh, absolutely!" 

"Madam Pomfrey!" 

The nurse's eyes were rimmed with red but she said "Yes!" 

"Professor Sprout!" 

The herbology professor looked lost in thought and said quietly "I'm in." 

"Professor Vector!" 

The Arithmancy teacher simply said "Have no fear, Vector is here." 

"Madam Pince!" 

The librarian answered in a shaking but defiant voice "We must win. Yes."

"Thank you all. I ... I don't know how better to express my thanks and admiration of you all," Dumbledore's voice caught. He sniffed then breathed deeply regaining his composure once more. "Severus, please instruct us on the next steps."  


Snape got up and stood behind Professor McGonagall's chair. "Each one of you will take the potion one at a time. The headmaster and I will watch over you. The headmaster will take his only after the rest of you have done so. The initial reaction will vary by person. However, you can expect a warm heat enveloping you followed by a state of relaxation and calm then you will feel a tingling or pulsing sensation as the construct settles down and you begin to feel its power. Minerva, you're first."

Both Dumbledore and Snape had their wands at the ready as Professor McGonagall removed the vial's stopper. As soon as the potion was exposed to air, its glow increased until McGonagall seemed to be holding a torch in her hand. She drank the potion, closed her eyes and leaned back. The others watched her with great interest. A radiant smile transformed her face. She gasped in happiness. "Oh, Albus, I'm flying, flying!" McGonagall kept her eyes closed and could not stop smiling.

Seeing McGonagall's apparent happiness, Professor Flitwick needed no prompting. As Severus moved to stand next to him, Flitwick opened his bottle. Instead of a torch of light, Flitwick's vial was a fountain shooting large streaming fireworks into the room. With a loud "Hah!", he drank it greedily. Suddenly, he grabbed Snape's arm yelling "Severus! You were right.." He began to glide through the air bouncing against the walls laughing like a small happy boy. "It's not evil, do you hear me, don't be afraid any of you!"

Trelawney caught Snape's eye and he moved to her position. She opened her vial. The vial didn't light up but it started to vibrate and then out came music, beautiful, heavenly music. She drank draining the vial quickly. At first, she just sat there unmoving but suddenly she stood up and threw her arms around Snape. Her body shook with tears and she just said "I never thought.. I just never thought. Thank you." Snape held her until her sobs became less violent she sat back down with her head in her hands shaking with tears of joy.

Filch looked at his vial dubiously. Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder and said "Go ahead, Argus, you might be surprised." Filch opened his vial and it immediately blew out gold, blue and green smoke circles each one bigger than the last one. Filch looked down at his vial and then at a beaming Dumbledore before he drank it. His body jerked once and he was propelled forward in his chair with a pained expression on his face. But his expression soon turned to amazement. He said nothing just rubbed his fingers together. He pointed at the pitcher of pumpkin juice at the center of the table. The pitcher glowed once. Splinters appeared one by one on its surface. The pitcher exploded with a loud bang spilling juice all over the table. Filch smiled. "Heh, try calling me a squib now ... heh heh."

Sinistra yelled for Snape to get over to her so she could drink her potion and share in the fun. She had opened her vial before Snape could get to her. Her vial didn't spew out light or smoke circles nor did it vibrate noticeably. Instead, the contents writhed inside and hummed quietly. Sinistra drank it quickly. After a few seconds, she shrieked as she fell to her knees. Wild waves of energy began to pour out of her body. Lightning streaked out of the sky from a clear, cloudless sky bathing the room in an eerie flash of electricity. As suddenly as the energy display began it stopped. Sinistra bounced up to her feet as if she was all ready to climb mountains. "This … this feels incredible! As the muggles say - wow!"

Dumbledore watched as Madam Pomfrey opened her vial. The moment it was opened it began to spread rainbow beams of light to all corners of the room. Pomfrey smiled and drank her vial. The nurse began to laugh hysterically tears running down her cheeks doubling over as if in pain. Dumbledore moved to aid her. "I'm all right, Albus. It … it tickles, is all. Severus, you didn't say these things could have a sense of humor!"

Snape stood by Professor Sprout whose vial was sending into the air wildly colored energy bubbles of varying sizes. With a delighted smile, she drank her potion. Her body sagged then straightened again. Then she started to transfigure into a series of things - a statue, a bird, a venus flytrap, a chair, a bear then finally a pot of flowers. She collapsed into her chair looking exultant but exhausted at the same time.

Vector stood up, opened his vial and before it could do anything downed the contents. After a few seconds his face grew brick red and his arms began to flail helplessly. Snape and Dumbledore rushed to his side ready to assist. Vector hiccupped. A plant in the room exploded. Vector looked embarrassed. Another hiccup and several glasses broke. He hiccuped again. One of the inner doors burst into flames. " Some hero I am - hiccups!"

Madam Pince's vial was still on the table. She had never picked it up. With a reassuring nod, Dumbledore picked it up and handed it to the librarian. Pince opened it warily. The room was rocked by one powerful tremor. Pince looked at the vial in her hand flabbergasted and disbelieving. "That couldn't have been from me." She drank the vial. Her entire body began to vibrate and sparks of electricity came streaming from her fingertips. Pince could only look upon her tingling fingers with wonder.

"I always knew you had it in you, my dear." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Minerva, Severus, please come and assist me in my quarters. Everyone, please remain here and wait for our return." 

The three of them left. The room's occupants hardly noticed their departure as they were too busy experiencing, exploring and meeting their new companions and the non-volunteers were agog at all that was happening. The trio returned after fifteen minutes. Dumbledore had a rather rosy afterglow about him. "Everyone, please, there is one more thing to do tonight and then all can retire. Everyone, please return to their seats."

Snape got up in front of the group once again. "Now, the only thing that remains is the ritual that will bind the volunteers together as well as form bonds with their partners. Because the vials you drank came from the same base potion, anyone taking the potion will have the ability to share the energy amongst themselves thus strengthening each other even more. Additionally, a minimal communication bond will be established between partner and volunteer. This bond will allow the volunteer and the partner to summon each other at need and it will also provide a limited but constant level of protection from dark spells upon the partner. For some of you, your partners will be arriving over the course of the next few days. The communication bond will be performed once they are present. Everyone please remain seated as still as you can be. Partners, think of your volunteer and volunteers think about your partner while I cast the spell."

The room was still and silent. Snape raised his hands in the air and wild lines of silver, gray and dark blue magical energy came up from the floor below his feet forming pulsating, crackling bands of energy about him. The crackling static grew louder still. It soon obliterated all other sounds in the room. Snape's voice could not be heard. After he uttered the last word, everyone but Snape slumped over into unconsciousness. The light around him grew to blinding intensity. The floor trembled under them. Then, the room was pitched into an all-consuming darkness. Snape wearily uttered "Lumos." The candles in the room lit and slowly everyone regained consciousness.

Anyone peering into the staff room at that moment in time would have declared that all the staff had gone crazy or were under the Imperious curse. Some of them were on the floor unable to get up. Some tottered on shaky legs. Others were leaning heavily on walls or tables. But all of them, even Snape, was laughing with unfettered joy.


	5. New Blood, New Plans

**  


Chapter 5

  
  


New Blood, New Plans

  
**

  
The worktable was piled high with books, parchment and empty plates and goblets. Under candlelight, a gaunt figure in black and gold robes consulted several volumes at once occasionally writing notes down on a piece of parchment. On another table, a cage full of white mice stood next to a large earthen bowl filled with a dark, syrupy liquid that bubbled softly. The cage shook slightly as the mice clawed at the sides frantic to escape. The scholar paid the mice no mind even as their squeaks increased in intensity as another sound invaded the quiet - a hissing, scraping slithering rasp against the bare ground. It was Nagini coming to rest after a night of hunting. Skirting around a huge pentagram carved into the ground, it slowly made its way to its master's side. 

Seeing his familiar's hugely distended body, Voldemort ran a tepid gray hand over distinct bulges in the snake's body and said "Ah, a fruitful night, it seems you have rescued yet another runaway, Nagini. Go on and rest, my friend, I will need you to do something for me soon. You should be well rested." Voldemort returned to his study.

A respectful knock at the door brought Voldemort to his feet. He waved the door open and Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew walked in like two mismatched bookends - one tall and elegant the other hunched and scruffy. Both bowed deeply to their lord and master. 

"What do you have to report?" Voldemort asked.

Malfoy held out a thick scroll of parchment. Malfoy stood at ease as he addressed the dread lord, "My son, Draco, has confirmed your suspicions, my lord. The ancient magic of the Hogwarts founders is indeed waning. He has been running tests for several months now and each time the results show a small decrease of overall protection every month. Here are his readings." 

Voldemort's thin lips thinned even more as he scanned the notes. He sat back on his stool deep in thought. "Give your son my compliments, Lucius. Well done. I am quite sure that the old man is just as aware of this as we are."

"Draco has not reported any unusual activity about the castle. He has included his observations in the notes. What could Dumbledore do? He alone cannot change what is happening and there are no other wizards or witches with the power of the founders or the old ones to help him. Save for you, of course, my lord."

"I underestimated him once. I will not do so again." Voldemort looked intently at Malfoy. "Have your son discontinue his testing. However, have him step up his recruitment efforts."

"He will not be as effective as Snape in that area. I do not understand why he is not called upon to do more in your support. What has he done to merit your continued trust?"

Voldemort faced Malfoy. _A true pureblood this one_, Voldemort mused, _and a jealous one_. He crossed his arms and leaned on the worktable. "All that I have asked Severus to do, he has done superbly. What that is stays between him and me involving no one else. I am not blind to his faults, Lucius. I value him for his irreplaceable utility. But I am loath to waste his time or talents for something that others may do as well or infinitely better. You will agree that Severus is not the most social of creatures and would more likely turn away potential recruits by force of his very personality."

This seeming insult got a laugh out of Malfoy defusing his incipient jealously. Voldemort thought that Malfoy was so transparent in his ambitions yet so crippled by his vices and misdirected virtues. _Such a waste!_ But his son showed great potential. He could see Severus' influence on the boy in the meticulous detail and ordered, disciplined approach of his notes and observations. Yes, he had to keep Malfoy pacified for now until the boy was secured. He turned his attention to Wormtail and said, "Well, have you better news for me, Wormtail?"

Wormtail sniveled. With effort he forced his spine to straighten. "My lord, we have found the Grangers. I can get a group together to eliminate them tonight."

"No, Wormtail, no. The Grangers are far more valuable to me alive. It is enough that we know where they are," Voldemort grinned but on his garish face it looked more like a twisted smirk. He gathered up a pile of black and cream envelopes. "You've done well, Wormtail."

"Thank you, my lord. I live to serve you," Wormtail bowed hugging his silver arm to himself.

"Now, go and have these invitations delivered." Voldemort handed the envelopes to Wormtail. " Lucius, here is yours. I will deliver Severus' invitation myself."

"Invitation to what, my lord?" asked Lucius carefully opening his envelope. He took out a small postcard and read it. His face blanched pale. Wormtail hurriedly opened his and let out a gasp.

Voldemort anticipating their reactions started to pace to and fro as he explained. "It has been some time since my first ascension to power. I feel that a rededication to our mission is necessary to better focus our energies and efforts to that victory which is so close at hand. This Friday night we will all gather and celebrate our cause together - as one. All Death Eaters shall re-sanctify themselves with a new black mark emblazoned over the old. Now go, it's late. Rest and prepare yourselves for something truly glorious!"

Satisfied with their lord's reasoning, his two acolytes left with their eyes gleaming in almost feral anticipation. Nagini hissed at him from her sleeping nest by the fire. He hissed back and she settled back to sleep. Voldemort returned to further study Draco's notes and results. Silently, he vowed that the old man wasn't going to stop him this time. At the very least, he would not suffer his descent into hell alone.

  


~ * ~

  


Back at Hogwarts just before dawn, Professors Flitwick and Vector were busy directing an army of house elves cleaning, fixing and rearranging several demolished classrooms. Many of the volunteers had suffered from insomnia last night. Several thought that a quick game of Spell Tag would be a good exercise. Many of the participants were today sporting slings and assorted bandages as well as much better control over their spell casting.

Over breakfast nothing extraordinary happened. People ate. People drank. People talked. People got their mail. The Weasleys got letters from their mum and siblings. Harry got a letter from Remus Lupin which he avidly read over and over again. Hermione got her latest subscription to Academic Portents Quarterly. She eagerly flipped through promising herself a good read in her dormitory that night. Draco got a large bundle of goodies and a letter from home. He distributed the sweets to his tablemates keeping the letter for later reading.

At the High Table, the headmaster was introducing several newly arrived graduate students to the staff and faculty. He was at the same time assigning and pairing off students with professors. Dumbledore led a familiar young lady to his resident potions master. More of a matter of courtesy than anything else, Severus Snape stood up and greeted Eve Delacour. She was Fleur Delacour's older sister and his new teaching assistant. They both sat down to breakfast and conversation. The activities at the high table did not go completely unnoticed.


	6. The Price of Hope

**  


Chapter 6 

  
  


The Price of Hope

  
**

The elderly witch opened the door to Ollivander's Wand Shop. If there was one place she could count on not changing, it was Ollivanders. She put her many packages on a side table and looked around. She knew to wait until Mr. Ollivander turned up as he always did. In the meantime, she looked over the various wand holsters on display. She was examining one with an ornate belt clip when she heard an unfamiliar voice addressing her. She turned and saw someone very like Mr. Ollivander with glittering but kind eyes and shock of white hair, yet not Mr. Ollivander. She said nothing returning his greeting with a polite nod.

"Yes, all the customers have had the same reaction today, Madam. I am young Mr. Ollivander." The young man extended his hand. Shaking his hand, she took note of his face which was less lined and less gaunt than the senior Ollivander but there was no mistaking that he was in truth an Ollivander. "My father will be occupied for a few days so here am I at your service and behest. How may I help you today?"

His candid smile was so endearing that she was put at ease immediately. "I am in need of a replacement wand and I will also be buying this holster." 

After taking her measurements young Mr. Ollivander disappeared to locate some suitable wands. He let his inborn gift guide him pulling out wand cases from different shelves his hands unerringly knowing what wands would suit the customer. He came back with four cases. Soon, the correct wand had been selected and the purchases made.

After she departed, he heard a voice from the back calling him for a well-deserved tea break. The senior Ollivander sat on a leather armchair sipping tea. The table in front of him was piled high with wand cases. Some were open and empty while others were tightly wrapped, banded and marked. He held up one wand for a quick inspection. It could hardly be called a wand as it was only 6 inches long, made of redwood and unusually heavy. A holographic sigil was branded on one end. 

"I never thought that these would be needed again after Grindelwald was defeated," sighed Mr. Ollivander. "Yet, the most simplest things are usually the most useful."

"I should have the rest made by this evening right on time," said young Mr. Ollivander. "We should really just enspell them now and save time."

"You are simply eager to cast some of the ancient spells for your own amusement. Besides, these would never be allowed past the Hogwarts gates if they were enspelled. Who was that last customer? She seemed familiar."

"She said her name was Genevieve Longbottom," Young Mr. Ollivander checked and sealed a redwood wand into its case. "And she said to give you her greetings and compliments on having such well mannered offspring."

The senior Ollivander had a suffused look on his face. "Did she have her vulture hat on?"

"None that I could see," supplied the younger. 

  


~ * ~

  


The graduate students had an invigorating effect on the rest of the Hogwarts student body. Classes taught by them were more enjoyable and interesting, even the History of Magic class. Their professors were in turn enjoying release from the daily tedium of teaching. At most, the teachers still had the upper level classes to handle. With the guest seminars tomorrow the professors would have an entire day free of teaching. There was almost a festive air about the place.

Draco Malfoy sat in his room late in the morning in between classes drafting a letter to his father. He kept rereading the letter he received this morning. His father had said that his research and notes were adequate and received favorably. In future, his father excoriated him to be more impressive and complete. However, this time it was enough. He was to stop his testing and continue his recruitment efforts. He was again reminded that his grades were slipping. 

Draco stood and paced in silent, seething frustration. Well of course, his grades were slipping, he thought. _I can hardly keep awake what with traipsing about the castle and grounds at night for months._ He made a note to ask Professor Snape about some extra credit work at their monthly conference next week. It was ironic, to him anyway, that the most despised teacher at Hogwarts was also the most respected by his own House. He spoke with every Slytherin student once a month one on one during early morning walks or late afternoon tea times. That was more effort than most parents extended to their own children - Slytherin parents, at any rate.

Draco forced his attention back to his letter. He had planned to write his father about the substitute teachers and the seminars tomorrow. He felt that there was something that he was not seeing - a connection of some kind. He couldn't voice his suspicions without tangible proof. In the end, he decided that a letter was a waste of time. The response he was likely to receive back would only be another reminder to not waste his father's time with trivial inconsequentialities. He gathered his books and headed to Charms class.

His Head of House was at that moment in his quarters sitting on a worn but comfortable couch trying in vain to relax. He had to relax or he would be worse off. His muscles were constricting and spasming. His heart rate was rapid. His skin was clammy and he was taking lungfuls of air in short deep gasps. His panic attacks were becoming stronger and less predictable. He had to hold on until Pomfrey arrived. His nails dug into the upholstery and he stiffened his spine and resolve. _All the school needed now was a potions master doing a dead on impersonation of a raving lunatic_. 

He started to feel the telltale sensation of a thousand crooked fingernails raking sharply over his body. It was far too late to relax now. He lifted a hand and saw what he expected - red angry lesions and gray pus-filled boils. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Demos, his shadow, materialize out of the wall. The door slammed open. Pomfrey ran in wand flicking reciting incantations as he started to writhe and moan. The lesions were getting bigger and uglier. Filch came in behind her and quickly cast a room silencing spell.

Pomfrey looked as Demos and then at Snape "You're right. He's never had an attack this bad before." 

She uttered a spell that put Severus' physical body in stasis while she mixed vials of phoenix tears, powdered unicorn horn and dragon's blood. She carefully removed his teaching robes and undershirt. This time lesions covered his back while boils appeared mostly on his hands and arms. 

Knowing that he was in too much pain to speak, she looked at Severus and asked "Are you ready? Blink once for yes and two for no." 

Snape blinked once. Filch moved to hold down Severus' shoulders while Demos, with two now solid hands, pinned his feet. She took a dropper and began to place a drop on every lesion and boil. The lesions and boils began to emit scalding gray steam and the unforgettable smell of burning flesh suffused the room. Snape screamed and screamed his body twisting and arching trying to get loose and flee the torment that he was enduring but there was no escape and he never passed out. It was a full hour before all the lesions and boils were healed and gone.

In a tower, an old man stared at a mirror. His body shook as silent tears traced paths down his cheeks. His eyes never left the mirror. He knew more than most that war exacted a price. A price that was always paid in blood and a lifetime of regret. If only he had confronted Riddle and killed him. If only he had kept a more vigilant eye on the Death Eaters. If only he had insisted on being the Potters' secret keeper, things might have turned out differently. So many ifs. It would be different this time. 

He looked at his reflection in another mirror and saw his true self. An old man,yes, but also a hardened man who had committed everything and everyone bowing to necessity and expediency. He would face his regrets later but he would win. He had to win for the faithful young man who suffered derision and hatred in silence. He had to win for the colleagues and friends he was planning on using as fodder and pawns, drained of their last ounce of bravery and heart. He had to win for the students caught in the crossfire who deserved a future of their making not Voldemort's. He had to win even if it meant joining the dark lord in mutual damnation for all eternity.

In Snape's dungeon quarters, Filch retched repeatedly into a conjured bowl. _I thought I had a strong stomach but this._ The burning, acidic scent he could bear. However during Snape's convulsions the very air had vibrated with magical forces; It was Dark magic not good magic. It left a strange, unpleasant aftertaste on the conscious mind. _Gods, this is like a nightmare that's always there playing wi' your mind. _ Being a squib all his life he had never experienced such an effect. He felt like scrubbing his mind clear and could not. _How does Snape bear this all the time?_

Pomfrey sat down in the armchair, breathing heavily willing her body to stop trembling and her tears to stop falling. _One of these days I'll be too late. He might be better off dead at this rate._ She glanced at her patient.

Demos adjusted the cold compress on Snape's forehead and kept checking Snape for signs of a relapse. Filch recovered and began to tidy up the room. He picked up a small envelope, read the scrap of torn parchment inside. "This must have been what triggered his stress attack."

He showed the Voldemort's invitation letter to Pomfrey who got more upset "When will this end?!" 

With certainty glinting cold and dangerous in his eyes he responded "That's up to us to decide now, isn't it?" 

Pomfrey didn't flinch from the anger and hatred she saw in Filch's gaze. Instead she returned it in full measure saying in a voice quaking with outrage, "If I wasn't ready before, I am most ready now. After this, dear God help me, I need to kill that bastard!"

Filch levitated Snape to his bed. Pomfrey forced a sleeping draught down her patient's throat. After putting a warming spell on the bed, they drew the canopy drapes closed. Demos stood vigil by the fire. He was not going exploring or patrolling tonight. Sitting in his now customary armchair, he thought about what he had seen and felt today - anger, sacrifice, regret, hatred and even shame. But there was something missing and that was fear.

Professor McGonagall finished her last class. By day's end she was emotionally exhausted. Madam Pomfrey had sought her out earlier needing to cry and vent on someone. But Pomfrey would not be the only one in need of a good listener today. She sought out Dumbledore in his office. She approached him. "You did what you could, Albus, then and now."

"Will you be as forgiving of me when I say to you that you must hold no matter how many fall, how many are used up, how many are sacrificed?" Dumbledore looked at her with sad eyes. For once the twinkle in his eyes was absent.

"I won't forgive you. Don't ask me to, Albus. But I will hold and trust to God that it will be enough," McGonagall responded with an upturn of her chin and a voice that was icy and resolute. 

"I lived through it once, Minerva. I will not live through it a second time," the headmaster looked out a window hands braced on the pane. "The world changes yet it remains the same."

"Then we need to keep giving the world another chance," McGonagall took his arm and led him out to the Great Hall for dinner so he could hear and see for himself why the only recourse was to win no matter the cost. On the way to the hall, she informed the headmaster that she intended to accompany Snape to his meeting tonight. 

Hermione walked in with the rest of her Gryffindor year mates ready for dinner to begin. They had just seen their house points take a sudden plunge and Seamus was bound and determined to find out why. Hermione's mind was going a mile a minute as she thought of excuse after excuse as to why she had lost Gryffindor so many points. However, even she thought that a little attitude problem was not worth the three hundred points that their house was now down by. Professor McGonagall caught Hermione's eye and she approached the High Table fearing the worst. 

"Ms Granger, please meet with me early tomorrow morning. I have an independent study project that I believe you will find fascinating." Hermione smiled at the prospect of something new to learn but her conscience got the better of her and she posed Seamus' question to her Head of House. 

"The headmaster will be making an announcement about that matter, Ms. Granger." Professor McGonagall said. With her heart racing and fighting the urge to flee, Hermione returned to her house table to wait for the announcement.

The headmaster stood and the room grew silent. "I have a quick announcement to make. As many of you have noticed, house points have been fluctuating wildly the last few weeks. There is a problem with the spell and rules governing house points. This problem is being investigated. In the meantime I suggest that you avert your eyes from the hourglasses when passing by the Main Hall. That is all."

It was glitch! Hermione's sense of deep relief was replaced by even deeper curiosity. She looked up at the High Table for the man who could answer her questions but Professor Snape was missing as was Professor Sprout. _Wait a minute, there's been a teacher missing almost every night. _ _Sometimes more._ _Come to think of it Professor Sinistra was either late or never came to meals. _ _It'sas almost like teachers took turns being gone._

Hermione remembered something else. The sixth and seventh year potions classes were not taught by Snape today. Eve Delacour had. She had said that Professor Snape was not feeling well. _Even Snape is allowed to be sick._ But her eyes kept straying to the High Table. She couldn't help feeling that there was a connection that was just beyond her grasp. There were too many things happening - the glitch, Snape being gone, the teachers disappearing, the seminars tomorrow, night detentions were no longer being issued by anyone and, if the rumor mill was correct, the corridors were being policed by far more teachers than before. _What is going on?_

At the Slytherin side of the room, Draco was hard pressed to keep the grin off his face. He had to write that letter to his father. _My theory's been proven and by Dumbledore no less._ He felt like crowing in triumph. Draco ate his dinner hurriedly and ran to his rooms. He wrote the letter but left out any mention of the substitute teachers or the seminars the next day.

  


~ * ~

  


Snape lost the argument with McGonagall that night. At midnight, he apparated to the meeting place. A tracing spell allowed McGonagall to follow him in owl form. He found himself next to a gazebo in a small nondescript muggle park. He looked around. He was alone. The gazebo was empty. He crossed his legs and stretched out on the bench feigning an ease he stopped feeling long ago. A minute later a tall robed figure stepped into the gazebo and sat down opposite Snape.

"Good evening, Severus," Voldemort said. Snape nodded but did not bother to stand or straighten. "Do you have news for me?"

"I have good news," Snape linked his hands behind his head and stretched his long body. "I have deciphered the research you provided regarding the Consula Econtra. It can be modified to be used as a controlling mechanism keyed to one person. However, I did not find the complete reference as to how to use the potion by itself to summon and bind demons."

"I had hoped that demon summoning would be possible," Voldemort supplied.

"It may be possible using the Egyptian procedure but the binding is problematical. Also, the notes themselves are incomplete on that matter," Snape looked him straight in the eye knowing that the Dark Mark would tell Voldemort if he was lying or not. _There I've said things in a way that was not an outright lie just inaccurate._

"It was too much to hope for. However, what you do have I trust will be more than sufficient." Voldemort stood up and began to pace. "My reason for asking you to research this matter was because I wish to use its abilities to enhance the Dark Mark. I remember the day long ago when you created the first Dark Mark on your arm and showed it to me as proof of your loyalty. And you sealed that loyalty by never taking credit for it. I have never forgotten. Now I am asking you to make a new Dark Mark, stronger more powerful to bind the Death Eaters into an unbeatable force at my command."

Snape's sonorous voice rose out of the dim interior. "I am honored. And I assume that you wish this new mark to be used this Friday evening?"

"Always dispassionate and to the point," Voldemort let out a chuckle. "Yes, Severus, I want all the Death Eaters to be re-branded. I have no preference on the how this will be done."

"Then if that is all, I need to return and rest," Snape rose and bowed his head slightly making sure that he kept a certain distance from Voldemort at all times. "I will have something ready by then."

"You never disappoint me, Severus," Voldemort faced him and noted the signs of exhaustion on his disciple's countenance. "I should let you get your rest then. Good night, Severus. Oh, before I forget, I must congratulate you on your mentoring of Draco Malfoy. The research he gave me was a superb example of thorough, methodical and disciplined thinking."

"Malfoy is very bright. It's too bad that Lucius does not encourage the boy enough," Severus leaned casually against the gazebo railing.

"Well, if you are shaping the rest of Slytherin house in the image that we seek then our future is secure," Voldemort turned and descended the stairs. 

Snape stood by the gazebo watching Voldemort disappear into the trees. Snape stood stock still for several moments straining his senses for any sign of Voldemort's return or the presence of his familiar, Nagini, who sometimes stayed behind and spied on those that Voldemort met with. Not sensing anything amiss he apparated. He met Professor McGonagall at the gates. They rushed back to the castle. Dumbledore greeted them and together they went to Snape's office. Demos remained on guard by the fire. The other two house heads, Sprout and Flitwick, were also in the office waiting. 

As Dumbledore entered he said with a somber smile "Our plan is working better than we anticipated. We must keep ahead of him."


	7. The Origins of the Dark Mark

**  


Chapter 7

  
  


The Origins of the Dark Mark

  
**

  
It was one thirty on a Thursday morning. The rest of the castle's human occupants were fast asleep. But for five people and one shadow the day had already begun. Flitwick and Sprout had awoken after being notified by Sir Nicholas of Snape's arrival at the gates. They went straight to the potion master's office to wait for the others. Demos let them in and went back to his book.

As Dumbledore stepped in everyone automatically formed a circle. McGonagall closed the door, joined the circle, cast a Circle of Anomi and invoked a Witness charm to record the proceedings. Flitwick and Sprout waited patiently conjuring easy chairs for all as the sphere coalesced and solidified around them completely. Snape sank gratefully into a chair flexing and rubbing his neck trying to stave off a tension headache. Demos attempted to merge but Snape shook his head indicating that he was not ready to merge just yet. McGonagall conjured a sandwich and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for Snape.

Flitwick made a suggestion. "This meeting has a long agenda and I suspect that it will prove stressful. May I make the suggestion that we lose control of our companions for a bit so we can concentrate on the matter at hand? Mine has not been out all day and getting restless. It cannot wait until I sleep."  
  
McGonagall nodded immediately "Yes, of course, mine enjoyed the flying tonight We could have stayed out all night. Demos could you entertain them for a while?" 

The shadow bowed at the waist with a flourish. Sounding like champagne corks being released, the companions shot out of Dumbledore, Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall. The brightly glowing orbs hummed as they weaved and danced in the air. Demos stood by the bookcase and beckoned them to him. He began to juggle them in the air and the orbs flickered and flashed in delight.  
  
"Now, as I said, things are progressing better than I could have hoped. Voldemort is now aware that the founders' Blessing of Benevolence is slowly weakening. He is focused on planning the attack, marshalling his forces and preparing for a siege of Hogwarts. So focused, in fact, that our own movements against him have gone unnoticed." Dumbledore explained. "Severus, brief us on your meeting then I want to hear the progress of all the teams. I cannot stress enough that we cannot stop, cannot rest and we cannot become careless."  
  
After gulping down some juice, Snape leaned back in his chair and began, "Voldemort has issued invitations to all the Death Eaters. As far as the Death Eaters are concerned the gathering on Friday is a celebration. The purpose of the gathering was a rededication to the cause and to Voldemort. My invitation was the same as the others but also included a letter. In this letter, I was told that my presence on Friday was mandatory and that my loyalty would finally be rewarded. I was to meet with Voldemort tonight to discuss preparations."  
  
"What are these preparations exactly?" asked Flitwick.  
  
Knowing that Snape would have difficulty speaking about it, McGonagall cleared her throat and answered for him. "He instructed Severus to make an improved Dark Mark. At this gathering, all the Death Eaters would be re-branded. Voldemort insisted that this new mark allow him to better control the Death Eaters."  
  
"Control as well as summon? To what level of control?" Dumbledore sat up straight. There was an intensity in his blue eyes that was rarely seen.  
  
"I suspect that the scope will depend on the magical power of the controller," Snape answered. "I also believe that Voldemort will use the Death Eaters to augment his power. He plans to leech power from them per his will. It will be a rape of the worse kind. The victims would not know what is happening only that they are getting progressively weaker. And once all the power is gone, the victim will be left as a vegetable though still conscious and lucid inside."  
  
"Can't they resist? Run away? Would the victim need to be conscious as it was happening?" Sprout pondered.  
  
Snape did not answer right away. When he did his words were carefully chosen. "To answer that I must begin at the beginning. As you all know, I created the Dark Mark to prove to Voldemort how deep my loyalty went I was a stupid, callow boy eager to please and prove my worth. I did not think of all the ramifications and uses that it could have. I only wanted Voldemort to know that I was willing to place myself utterly in his service. My dark mark allows Voldemort to indicate to me that my presence was sought. It also makes it impossible for me to say a direct lie to his face at close quarters. It does not affect my actions only what I say when I am in his presence. He does not know that the closer I am to him, the more I am compelled to say the truth. Voldemort simply believes that all I say to him is the absolute truth. It also inhibits me from doing him direct harm like an assassination. When I presented my "gift" I had thought that it would make me unique and special in his eyes."  
  
Snape stood and paced to and fro twitching occasionally as if uncomfortable in his own skin. His face suffused with shame and regret. "It certainly made my usefulness apparent. When Voldemort saw it and I explained its properties, he asked me to brand all the others. I responded that I could not. The bearer had to create their own and must possess the magical talent and power to do so. I was tasked to find another way. Voldemort had grown enamored of the mark. So, I created a different mechanism to achieve the same effect but with different properties. With this new mark, Voldemort could summon with implicit force thus the bearer had to apparate to Voldemort at the appointed time and place unlike mine which simply signaled me and does not forcefully compel me to obey. There is pain at noncompliance but that is bearable. The new mark due to its method of creation did not have the ability to enforce veracity in the bearer. However, it did have a stronger sense of control over the bearer's actions. The wearer could think what he wanted to but could not act upon those thoughts. The bearer could not directly or indirectly do Voldemort harm irregardless of distance. It is for that reason that he is absolutely safe in the presence of the Death Eaters. I added a primitive control stating that if the wearer willingly accepts the mark, then that wearer agrees to obey the collective will, in this case Voldemort. For example, conscious or not, the wearer must obey. The compulsion to obey is not under their control. This second mark is what all the Death Eaters bear."  
  
"Your student work was always so similarly thorough," Flitwick observed with some bite. "Always wanting to exceed the limits yet doubtful of your own talents and achievements."  
  
"You will be glad to know that I am quite the opposite now. I know what I can do, how far I can go, how close I came to becoming the next Grindelwald," .  
  
"You are far too critically introspective to become a megalomaniac, Severus. Megalomania requires a high degree of self delusion," said Dumbledore with a slight smile. "And the lifestyle would be far too public for your sensibilities."  
  
Sprout added "Be assured, Severus, we will find ways to remind you of your failings as a would-be dictator."  
  
"In the meantime, you have our permission to continue using your classes as the surrogate subjects of your imagined empire," McGonagall added. "Snape Caesar just does not inspire fear."  
  
The group shared a laugh at Snape's expense. At the laughter, the companions returned to hover close by their hosts. Strong emotions always drew them back. Their hosts instinctively reached out to alternately stroke and pat making their companions aware that all was right. The sprites zoomed away again to amuse themselves by materializing in and out of Demos who was adjusting his transparency for them.  
  
Snape sat back down and continued on, "This proposed third mark would have all the same qualities as the second but with greater control over the thoughts and actions of the wearer by the controller as well as the ability to borrow the wearer's magical energy. So you see the wearer will have no free will to resist, conscious or not. The Death Eaters do not know it yet but they are all about to be transformed into herds of sheep under the mercy of a homicidal, psychotic shepherd. No one deserves that, not even a Death Eater."  
  
The room was silent as they all digested this new unpleasantness. Sprout broke the silence "Severus, will your mark be changed as well?"  
  
"I know that it will be expected, however, my mark can never be removed or changed without cutting off my arm." Severus pulled his left sleeve up to show off his mark. He traced the outline as he spoke. "When I said that only the wearer could create one such as this, it was because this particular mark is biological. Each line is made of my own skin and tissue. It has texture and rises imperceptibly off my skin. I grafted my skin then imbued each piece with the rules incantations for summoning, veracity and loyalty. I dyed it black using a dye made with my own blood. Then I grafted it back onto my arm. As the graft healed, the mark was accepted and absorbed by my body. The Death Eaters marks are all burned on then the spells are cast over the figure. You remove the spells and the mark will eventually fade. My mark is a permanent part of myself. It was intended to be such and it is."  
  
All assembled were horrified staring at his arm transfixed. Not even Dumbledore had known the full extent of his Dark Mark's creation. Dumbledore stood, walked across to touch the mark himself. After tracing it completely, he looked solemnly at Snape. "Severus, you cannot do this. There must be a way to avoid it. We, in this room, are the only ones who know that you created the Dark Mark, as well as some of the other things you have done. If the Ministry discovers that you have created this new mark, I cannot do anything to protect you. Nothing I could say would mitigate this."  
  
"I know that, Albus. I had thought of creating a weaker mark but masking its deficiencies properly would take time. Time is something I have little of," Snape answered.  
  
"Can you not charm the skin around the mark to reject it after a certain time?" said Sprout. "After the time expires, make it itch or something."  
  
"The mark will be burned in. It cannot be temporarily applied and then removed, Cera,"  
  
"Not remove, Severus, but I propose that you change the context. By adding that condition in, it can prove to the Ministry that your true intent was temporary and that you were doing so under coercion. That you tried to not make it permanent will speak volumes," reasoned Sprout. "That fine line could keep you out of Azkaban."  
  
The others turned as one to look at her in stunned amazement. Snape said what they all thought. "That is so devious and subtle it will certainly work. When did you become a defense lawyer?"  
  
"It seemed rather obvious," said Sprout characteristically downplaying her inspired idea. "Every law is tried based on proven intent not just the act. Disprove the perceived intent with the truth and they have no case. Keeps things rather simple to my mind."  
  
"And the sheep will be left with a permanent itch?" McGonagall asked.  
  
"I'll make it a physical itch not a magical one so they can use salves and such to relieve the itching temporarily," Severus rubbed his chin and sat back thinking with a faraway look. "Of course, it will be for the rest of their lives. Or, if it is truly unbearable there is always amputation. I wonder if I can make the control aspects time-released to fade slowly over time?"  
  
"Will you need any assistance?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"No, there is enough Consula Econtra made using my new recipe courtesy of the 5th year class. I believe a salve that alters the existing mark will suffice. Now as to how to mask the time conditioning -" His attention wandered to the details of his new assignment. Dumbledore returned to his seat and began to ask the others for their progress reports.  
  
Flitwick cleared his throat before saying "Mr. Ollivander and his shipment will be arriving at dawn today. Filch and Hagrid will meet him. The Bloody Baron and Filch have completed the armory just in time. Between you, Ollivander and myself, we should have all the wands enspelled in short order. Ollivander will also be bringing side holsters and such. We still need a physical type of armor. I remember that during the last series of battles against Grindelwald's factions most of the injuries were caused by flying debris and similarly unexpected projectiles. I would like present our war plans at the next strategy meeting. We are on schedule on the other tasks. Before I forget, Minerva, do we have enough funds to order another 50 battle wands from Ollivander's?"  
  
"Why so many, Filius? With the new shipment tomorrow, our inventory will be brought to exactly one hundred wands. That number seems more than sufficient to me." Minerva asked after consulting her notes.  
  
"One hundred is not enough. Each volunteer will have at minimum five wands for their own use. Ten volunteers, fifty wands. The remaining fifty will be used by the specialty teams. I have twenty already provisioned for Poppy. Ten go to Hagrid and his combat medics but he will probably want more once he sees what they can do." Flitwick ticked off items off his list as he went. "Another twenty for the point squads of the attack teams. I have none left on reserve. You cannot know how many wands are lost in melees when the choice is either find your wand under fire or retreat in order to fight another day."  
  
"Let me see what I can do. But I make no promises, Filius," Minerva warned the eager Charms professor. She mused that his students would hardly recognize their cheery professor in the bloodthirsty, calculating general coolly cataloging what he had in the armory to maim, stun or outright kill someone with.  
  
Snape looked up from his own earnest scribbling to say "Filius, please reserve one battle wand for me."  
  
"Just the one?" asked Filius making a note of the request.  
  
"Yes, I'll enspell it myself," Snape answered. "Before you ask, it is for Demos."  
  
The charms and potions masters exchanged a raised eyebrow and an inscrutable look respectively before Flitwick countered with "I take it that I do not want to know what spell essence it will be imbued with?"  
  
"Your assumption is correct," Snape replied going back to his scribbling while shushing a curious Demos. "Later, Demos. I will tell you later."  
  
Dumbledore was looking at Demos with interest. "Severus, I thought Demos was mostly wraith-like, however, now that I look at him more closely he seems only slightly transparent and more solid. I can see distinct features. He's looking more and more like you every day."  
  
"Demos is becoming more and more corporeal," Snape explained. "Though he still retains his wraith-like abilities like passing through walls and dissolving, his physical manifestations are taking on more solidity. Each time he transitions to physical form the length of time that he can retain that form increases slightly. He can currently remain completely solid for an hour. As for the similarity, I attribute that to being a side effect of the Doppleganger's Dilemma."  
  
"Doppleganger's Dilemma?" asked Sprout. "Doppleganger as in the German word for 'twin'? Is that why you needed dopple berries?"  
  
"Yes, Cera. I modified some of the berries' properties to form the foundation layer for the construct potion. I call the new potion the Doppleganger's Dilemma. Without it I would not have been able to create the constructs nor match them to each of you individually." Snape then went into full lecture mode. "I realized the reason for my first failure was that the energy from a living being needed to be housed in another that was of equal or slightly lesser level of sentience. The berries have the power to induce that sentience by making a vague copy of the intended recipient's personality. In my case, there was no other sentient object in the room so the energy went to me as is in its purest, undiluted form manifesting as a mirror image inverted imprint of myself. For the final version, I was able to find the correct dilution ratio between the Doppleganger's Dilemma and the Consula Econtra to instill the construct with the necessary properties but not the other side effects. I did not think any of you would fancy having an alter image following you around."  
  
Flitwick chuckled. "Thank you, Severus. I am quite happy with my little sprite. It is unobtrusive until it is needed or being temperamental."  
  
"Will Demos ever reach full physical and mental sentience, Severus?" Minerva asked. _Two potions masters for the price of one._ She had become quite fiscally frugal of late.  
  
"I do not know," Snape sighed. "There is no reference to go by. His changes follow no discernible pattern or frequency. We are able to stay apart for longer and longer lengths of time without my experiencing any pain from the separation. He was originally much like a tabula rasa - mentally blank save for instincts and natural impulses. He seems to be slowly absorbing some of my knowledge. How, I do not know. He can speak but with effort. I fell out of bed the day he woke me up by saying 'Good morning, Severus.'"  
  
That remark got several chuckles and guffaws from the assembled. Demos made a small bow and smiled cheekily walking around kissing the ladies' hands before returning to stand behind Snape's chair. Snape motioned to him to merge. The others watched with fascination as Demos stepped into Snape's body. Slowly his dark form dissolved leaving only Snape flushed and breathing deeply. Dumbledore conjured some sandwiches and tea as the hour was getting late and they had more to cover. Their companions played chasing games with each other materializing and hiding in Snape's extensive bookcase.  
  
Professor Sprout began her report while she accepted her tea. "The first full harvest will be ready tomorrow, Minerva. I will need two more storerooms I had underestimated the accelerated growth spell I cast. How many house elves have been assigned?"  
  
"Fortunately, we have several extra rooms already prepared, Cera. I'll have the Gray Lady make a room inspection before the harvest tomorrow night. I have assigned 35 house elves to you. Is that enough do you think?"  
  
"Yes, that will be just fine," Sprout wrote down the number and made some calculations. "I plan on a harvest every two weeks. Hagrid has selected his medic crew. His initial lessons on first aid were illuminating. He is very patient with the house elves and they like him. Also, my projection is that the new cuttings will be ready in two weeks time. I will need more than one or two teachers to tree-sit."  
  
"I'm working on our manpower shortage, Cera," said Dumbledore. "Minerva?"  
  
"Preparations for the visit tomorrow are complete. The Gray Lady has organized things so that each one of our visitors will never go unobserved. We have applied all the capital procured by Vector to our new investment strategy. It is paying off handsomely," McGonagall's eyes shone with delight. "I admit I was not in favor of Vector's original plans however good his intentions, but I cannot argue against his results. Sinistra has become adroit at breaking him out of muggle jails. Severus, are there negative long term effects to polyjuice use?"  
  
"No, not unless you count Vector's egregious fashion sense," Snape answered. "His last outfit was ridiculous - a Hawaiian shirt, long white shorts, white tube socks and sandals complemented by sunglasses and a straw hat."  
  
"I believe he is starting to enjoy becoming more and more outrageous," Flitwick observed.  
  
"Anything that will help him become more effective is acceptable," Dumbledore decided. "What about non-food supplies provisioning?"  
  
"We are accepting shipments nearly every week," said McGonagall. "Filch has been creating more storerooms the last few days. The Hogsmeade communication hub system is complete. We will be starting on the London, Manchester and Edinburgh hub links. After that, Cardiff and Inverness are on the docket. I never knew establishing a completely new communication and transport system would be so difficult."  
  
"I'm unclear on the benefits of this new system over the floo or apparating." asked Flitwick. "How can I send an operative anywhere I want without the Ministry knowing about it?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Filius, but Pince or Sinistra are the right people to discuss the specifics with," McGonagall explained. "In theory, we use the muggle Internet navigating using the IP addresses of sites that we own. Port keys will be programmed for all the sites such that a user need only specify the location desired. Since these dedicated IP addresses are unique there is less chance of misdirection as in the floo network or apparating and one can go between any addresses as needed. Pince has been mapping and adding IP addresses from all over Britain and some in Europe. Sinistra's test trips have been very successful. Other items are on schedule."  
  
"Wonderful. Now let us discuss our tactical needs. I have chosen you four to be my tactical seconds. I hope that you have given your own choices of tactical seconds careful thought as I had asked." Dumbledore steepled his hands and continued. "I will need you all to concentrate on our overall strategies and supervise your tacticals to carry out the strategies. Tell me your two choices and why. Filius, let's start with you."  
  
"I choose Madam Pince and Madam Hooch," said Flitwick. "I want Madam Pince for offensive research and design. She has shown an admirable inventiveness with the mechanics of the new network combining the muggle with the magical. Besides, I can sense that there is something under the surface with her that intrigues me - a closet field marshal in the making cool and level headed in the heat. Madam Hooch has excellent tactical aptitude and her natural inclinations are well suited for rapid field deployments. I believe that she will find the chance to create a war broom to be irresistible."  
  
"War broom?" asked Snape. "I have never heard of such a thing."  
  
"Several were made for the old war, Severus, and by their nature had to destroyed after the war ended. These brooms were known for their suppleness, superb handling, flexibility, offensive weapons, aggressiveness and the armor capabilities given to the rider." Filius explained. "They are extremely difficult to make but they were coveted as they are ideal for quick strikes and directing field movements."  
  
"Approved, Filius. Minerva?" Dumbledore looked at his deputy.  
  
"I choose Sybil Trelawney and Hermione Granger," Minerva did not say any more waiting for the pregnant silence to end as she knew it soon would.  
  
"Granger?!" Snape sputtered and sat up in attention. "They hate each other. Besides, meddlesome as she is, she'll tell Potter."  
  
"Sybil? You and Sybil?" said an amazed Sprout. "Together?"  
  
Dumbledore looked extremely thoughtful and said "Explain, please."  
  
McGonagall stood up and faced her colleagues. "Remember Sybil as a student, Filius, Albus? She was one of the top students that ever went to Hogwarts and still is. Then she had her first vision her first year at university. She was ruined by it. I have watched her these last few weeks. I have seen a change in her. I know in my bones that she will prove an asset to us and craves a chance to prove it. She will handle the communications network as well as our investment instruments. As for Ms Granger, I need not list the aptitudes and proclivities that she would bring to our plan. I need a capable, trustworthy individual to organize the students. Look at SPEW, she has shown the ability to be a natural and tenacious campaigner. Additionally, I feel that her muggle heritage will be of immense use. I know that once they get to know one another, both of them will perform with distinction and discretion." 

"Have you talked to Ms Granger?" the headmaster asked.  
  
"No, however, I have made an appointment with her to discuss this matter," McGonagall responded. "I have secured the permission of her parents. They have indicated that it is Ms Granger's decision to make."  
  
"All right. I approve Sybil. If Ms Granger agrees, then your team will be complete. I cannot help notice that you've chosen your past protégé and your current one, Minerva. Cera, your choices?"  
  
Professor Sprout sat up and said "Sinistra and Filch. I envision Sinistra for internal defense research and active design of defensive methods. She has demonstrated the ability to think independently and originally. I'm looking forward to what she comes up with. I need Filch for implementation and covert defense development. He knows the castle and grounds inside and out. Madame Pince told me that Argus has been haunting the library reading up on every spell imaginable. I've seen him practicing at night in the greenhouses. Additionally, as my team is the last line of defense, both candidates have exhibited remarkable offensive talents. They were the last two standing during Spell Tag and they both used their companions as additional offensive players. I suspect that they would have finished each other off had we not stopped."  
  
"Approved and I heartily agree with your assessments of both of them, Cera." Dumbledore smiled at the Head of Hufflepuff then turned to address Snape. "Severus, who are your seconds?"  
  
Snape composed himself before saying, "For my tactical seconds I choose Vector and Neville Longbottom." 

He did not have to wait long for a reaction. The laughter and giggling started immediately and went on for some time but did not cross over the line to hysteria.  
  
"You disparage his fashion sense in one breath and with the other make him your second. And Longbottom is ... is ..." McGonagall could not finish as she started laughing again.  
  
Snape rolled his eyes. He had expected this reaction. _Nothing to do but proceed._ "In his recent activities, Vector has learned and demonstrated the ability to act as someone else, to behave as someone else and to be perceived as someone else all the while utilizing his sharp intellect to misdirect and mislead. On the surface he is a mildly tolerable Lockhart impersonator but underneath is the real weapon - his mind - which he employs so effectively. He has adapted to unfamiliar situations and muggles in particular. His growing familiarity with muggle life is an asset. Vector can be a bombastic buffoon or an innocent bystander, blatant or subtle as the need arises and he is quick-witted enough to get out of trouble. I need him as a field agent."  
  
By this time, the others had stopped laughing and were catching their breaths. They looked at him waiting for further explanation. "As for Mr. Longbottom, he is easy to overlook, I know, both because of his demeanor and his lack of artifice. His potions essays caught my attention at the beginning of term because their quality was so unlike his previous work. His essays were superb examples of creativity, intelligence and logical clarity and in absolute contrast to his actual potions work. I spoke with his grandmother. She told me that last summer Mr. Longbottom studied potions with a vengeance. Using herbology as a starting point, he traced potions ingredients and their resultant potions. Very impressively, he started with year one work and ended with fifth year material all in one summer break. He is quiet, affable but keenly observant. It would not do to underestimate him. Being a student, it would allow me access to that quarter through him. He would make an ideal analyst."  
  
"If you wanted a student, I would think that Draco Malfoy is a better choice," Cera Sprout pointed out.  
  
"Malfoy is not to be trusted. He is a dedicated fence sitter hiding behind Lucius - a simpering follower with the potential of leadership. Right now, all this is a power game to him. I need someone with the heart to commit for the right reasons not his own agenda. Malfoy may yet change and I have not entirely written him off. But he is of no account in this."  
  
"Have you approached Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"No, I have asked his grandmother to attend my meeting with her grandson, Albus," said Snape. "I know that Longbottom is more than what he seems. His magical energy is so strong and he seems to shy away from drawing on that power. He does not seem to have learned adequate control which accounts for his potions and spells going awry. I also believe that his personal stake in Voldemort's defeat will prove beneficial."  
  
"Both choices are surprising, Severus. I applaud the choice of Vector. I have reservations about Mr. Longbottom but they are not what you may think. He is the last of his line, Severus. Coming from an old family of the Tradition yourself you understand. Have you consulted his grandmother?" Dumbledore looked sharply at Snape.  
  
"No, I wanted to make my case in person to her first before even talking with Longbottom," Snape replied evenly. "She will be arriving later today."  
  
"Very well, Severus, do so and good luck." Dumbledore stood up. "I believe that concludes our meeting. Let us get what rest we can in the next four hours. The aurors will be arriving by seven this morning. I leave it to you all to speak to your new seconds. I would like to have a full briefing with everyone tomorrow evening at eight." 

While the companions were returning to their hosts, McGonagall dissolved the circle, removed the recorder and the rest walked to their quarters to get a few hours of sleep. The fire had long since died out and the room was left cold.  


  


  
~ * ~

  


  
The next morning a large contingent of Aurors and Unspeakables, accompanied by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was greeted in the Main Hall by the headmaster. All four of the house heads were introduced. McGonagall, Sprout and Snape escorted their visitors to their assigned classrooms for the day while Fudge and Dumbledore retreated to the headmaster's office with Flitwick in tow ostensibly sitting in for Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Thank you for sending them, Cornelius. It was quite a good idea on your part to want to broaden the students' horizons," Dumbledore poured himself and Flitwick some pumpkin juice.  
  
"You're very welcome, Albus," Fudge took a sip of his gilly water. "Compared to the foreign schools of magic, Hogwarts is lagging behind on elective classes. This should at least give the impression that we are trying to remedy that situation."  
  
"Of course, Cornelius, appearances must be maintained," Albus responded quietly leaning back in his chair looking very much at ease.  
  
Flitwick piped up from one of the side chairs "They do seem quite a young group of aurors, minister. Hardly over thirty most of them and I expected more than 2 Unspeakables."  
  
"Well, yes, most of the more seasoned aurors are on duty and could not be scheduled to come. This group comes highly recommended." Fudge replied. "Besides, I thought the students would respond better to those closer to their own age. Shall we proceed on to Ministry business then?"  
  
"By all means, Cornelius," Albus dutifully looked attentive.  
  
"I have to start with the bad news I'm afraid, Albus. The Finance Department has reviewed your latest budget and made further reductions. Now, before you say anything, the funds were transferred to the Muggle Intervention Fund. There have been more and more interactions with muggles and it's costing us a pretty penny, I dare say, to cover up our activities," Fudge explained watching Dumbledore closely. "I tried to argue your case. I really did but the reductions stand. And I can see the department's point with enrollment staying at the same levels overall your expenditure should also stay the same."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and a relieved Fudge continued as he presented a scroll each to Dumbledore and Flitwick. "Here are a few bylaws to be voted upon as amendments at the next trustees meeting. Please review beforehand. They are all minor in nature more to do with governance and finances. Now, tell me have you made any progress on the Blessing of Benevolence problem?"  
  
"I am afraid not, Cornelius. The blessing is slowly wearing off becoming less and less effective. I am surprised that it has lasted as long as it has." Albus explained stroking his long white beard.  
  
"How long before it completely dissolves," Fudge leaned on the edge of his seat. Flitwick was surreptitiously watching him from the side.  
  
"It is hard to tell. If it continues at its current rate then I estimate complete dissolution in one year from now. We have found no replacement for it. I do not even know how the charm was cast nor do I have any more detail than what the Ministry is in possession of. I will have more information at the trustees meeting next month. When it is gone, it will be gone."  
  
"That is too bad. Perhaps, the timing is right. The world is much safer than it used to be. There is little need for a blessing of benevolence any more." Fudge stood up and straightening his robes self importantly. "I must be off then. I have several meetings to attend to. Flitwick, a pleasure as always." 

With those parting words, the minister swept out smartly out of the headmaster's office and Hogwarts castle.  
  
"Well, we have our answer," said Flitwick quietly.  
  
"Yes but no proof," pointed out Dumbledore. "But proof would help us not at all."  
  
"Keep the Ministry away from me for six months, Albus, and we will be ready, I promise you," Flitwick pleaded.  
  
At a quick knock at the door, Mr. Ollivander stepped in, closed the door and automatically took a seat by the fire. "I have to commend you on your armory, Filius. The storage and retrieval methods are unique. They should prove most effective. Certainly solves your supply problems."  
  
"I will have no supply problems. However, credit must also be given to Madam Pince. She tied the armory to the new transport system. No more trunks being hauled from one location to another. Ingenious woman!" Flitwick supplied.  
  
"The same Madam Pince as the librarian?" asked Ollivander.  
  
"Yes, yes. A woman of unusual talents." said Albus.  
  
"Apparently," said Ollivander dryly. He clapped his hands together and grinned. "So, where's my volunteer, Albus?"  
  
"Minerva should be here shortly as will Severus. She had a short meeting this morning. In the meantime, tell us your news," Albus was now finally truly at ease.  


  


~ * ~

  


  
Two sets of tea sat unsipped and ignored on the table in Professor McGonagall's office. Two young women were reeling from shock at the sheer volume of information that had just been thrown at them. The pell mell pace of the schedule left them queasy. Their eyes remained on the parchments on their laps which read:  
  
Strategy and External Recruitment - Dumbledore  
  
Intelligence - Snape (seconds Vector and Longbottom)  
  
Planning and Logistics - McGonagall (seconds Trelawney and Granger)  
  
Arms and Armor - Flitwick (seconds Pince and Hooch)  
  
Siege and Defense - Sprout (seconds Sinistra and Filch)  
  
  
  
Specialties  
  
Pomfrey - Infirmary, medical supply procurement, medical research  
  
Binns - Research and analysis  
  
Hagrid - Combat medic and corp services  
  
Ollivander - External arms supplier  
  
Figg - External funding and investment handler  
  
Bloody Baron - Grounds monitoring and security  
  
The Gray Lady - Castle communications  
  
Sir Nicholas - Gate and portal monitoring  
  
The Fat Friar - Intra-personnel communications  
  
Hermione had been honored when Professor McGonagall had explained the special project. She had accepted readily enough. _This is unbelievable._ A part of her stood up and cheered herself on after she realized that she wouldn't be stuck in the library very often. Finally, someone thought of her as more than a walking library. She glanced obliquely at Professor Trelawney - Sibyl - who was peering at her parchment and making notes on another. She didn't know what it was, but the divination professor was different, almost normal. Keeping this from Harry and Ron would be easy after all they were used to her special projects by now. She turned her attention back to Professor McGonagall.  
  
"There will be a mandatory full briefing this evening at 8pm in one of the dungeon meeting rooms. Please think carefully of what I have told you. Bring any questions you may have to the meeting tonight." McGonagall instructed. "I expect the two of you to coordinate on the tasks that I have assigned. We, three, will have twice weekly progress meetings." 

McGonagall began to dissolve the Cirquo Anomi and deactivated the recorded.  
  
"One question, Professor," said Hermione.  
  
"Yes, Ms Granger?"  
  
"Um, Neville working with Professor Snape. That is a really bad idea," Hermione pointed out.  
  
"Professor Snape personally selected him," McGonagall barely kept her amusement from showing.  
  
"But, but ... they can't stand each other," Hermione kept on. "Intelligence work?"  
  
"His reasons were valid. And, Ms Granger, I have learned to trust Severus Snape's judgment almost more than my own,"  
  
Trelawney looked knowingly at the deputy headmistress and with a slight grin added "With Severus the proof is always in the pudding." This earned a laugh from the senior professor.  
  
"Well, all right," Hermione acceded reluctantly. She was going to speak with Neville as soon as possible. "I guess."  
  
As if McGonagall had read her mind "Oh, please do not discuss this matter with Mr. Longbottom just yet. Wait until the meeting tonight."  
  
The two younger ladies nodded and left one to go to her seminars and the other to return to her tower which didn't seem all that lonely anymore. Trelawney planned to reestablish the mentoring relationship that she had once had with Professor McGonagall and get to know Hermione Granger as well. It was time to start living again. Hermione headed off to her first seminar. Thoughts swirled in her head. _Mr. Ollivander an arms dealer who would have thought._ _Well, this does explain a few things._  
  
Severus Snape had been none too impressed with the batch of Aurors he had escorted about this morning. After a brief stop in the staff room, he was headed towards Professor McGonagall's office and together go they would proceed to Albus' office to perform the partner bond. He was absentmindedly wondering who her partner was going to be when he saw Hermione Granger heading his way at a fast clip. As she passed, he murmured "Welcome to a most exclusive club, Ms Granger."  
  
"Thank you, sir." she replied. "About Neville, I don't -"  
  
"Ah, no, Ms Granger. The first thing you must remember is that no discussion of any kind on this topic is ever done by anyone outside of a Circle of Anomi unless you happen to be in the headmaster's office," Snape instructed in a firm tone. "As for that particular student, I will only say that I expect him to surprise a lot of people, especially those who believe they know him best. Enjoy your seminars."  
  
Snape walked on leaving a puzzled but determined Hermione Granger. She decided that she was going to give Neville whatever help she could even if it killed her. She didn't know what to think of Snape or Trelawney for that matter. She'd list down her questions with invisible ink as she thought of them. It was going to be a long wait until the meeting tonight.  
  



	8. A Change of Perspective

**  


Chapter 8

  
  


A Change of Perspective

  
**

Old friends of long standing have more than their experiences in common. They also interact in a shorthand of looks, gestures and anecdotes known only to themselves. Conversation is quicksilver jumping from one topic to another with little reason, even less logic, punctuated by moments of nostalgia. Such was the case between the three men in the headmaster's office that morning. In the midst of another retelling of a glorious adventure in their shared pasts, Professors McGonagall and Snape entered.  
  
Dumbledore stood up and said rather loudly, "Here they are at last. Severus, I'd like you to perform the partner bond between Minerva and Flavius here." 

Mr. Ollivander also stood up, turned and seemed to try to be catching McGonagall's attention. McGonagall paused just inside the door instantly identified the occupants of the room.

She said in a voice too calm to be mistaken for anything but controlled rage by those who knew her well, "Albus, I need to speak to you about this." 

The headmaster visibly flinched at the dagger of a look flung his way by her stormy eyes. "Of course, Minerva. I am at your disposal as always but after the ritual, I beg of you. Think of the plan, Minerva, please." Dumbledore caught sight of Flitwick who was already shuffling into the other room as fast as his short legs would carry him. Dumbledore decided to emulate his far-sighted colleague's strategic retreat. "Severus, we'll be in the other room. Call us after you're done."  
  
"Of course, headmaster." Snape moved so he would be facing the two subjects. 

McGonagall and Ollivander stood looking at each other one rigid as a statue the other hesitantly anxious. Mr. Ollivander held a chair out and motioned McGonagall to sit while he took a chair opposite her. "You didn't know that Albus had asked me, did you? I thought that he had told you and you were all right with it. If I had known, I would -" 

"Stop apologizing, Flavius. I was not asked and it is most certainly not all right. I shall have to trust the fool's judgment on this." McGonagall sat stiff as a ramrod looking straight ahead at some point beyond Ollivander's left shoulder. "Get on with it, Severus."  
  
Snape glanced at one then the other but kept his comments to himself. There was obviously some history between his subjects. Judging from McGonagall's expression, it was not one that he had any interest in involving himself in if he valued his life or peace of mind. "Do you have any questions before I proceed, sir?"  
  
"I have been told that being in a partner bond will allow either party to apparate to the other when the other is in great need or is directly summoned and that some level of protection from hexes and curses is imparted to the partner, do I have that right?" Ollivander's questions were directed at Snape but his eyes flitted from McGonagall then back to his hands which were folded on his lap then back to the headmistress again.  
  
"Yes, those are the most important effects. Now, if you are both ready, please close your eyes." His subjects closed their eyes and Snape began. 

As before, magical energy rose from the floor and the crackling static noise obliterated every other sound in the room. Snape intoned the various incantations then the energy intensified, the floor shook and the room was plunged into darkness. The dark was almost a tangible thing - a thing that stopped even the sunlight. Both McGonagall and Ollivander were slumped unconscious in their chairs. As the darkness dissipated and light once again filtered into the room, Snape knelt down and shook both of them carefully, gently. Curious, none of the others had stayed unconscious for as long as these two had. After a few minutes, McGonagall and Ollivander began to stir. Mr. Ollivander woke up with a huge smile on his face and his eyes were shining hinting at mischief about to be made. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, woke up as if from a nightmare. Snape had never seen the mixed look of absolute uncertainty and fright in her eyes before and hoped he never would.  
  
"That was quite exhilarating, Severus. My word, I feel like a burst of energy has taken permanent residency in me." observed Mr. Ollivander standing up and walking about flexing his arms and hands. "Are you sure you haven't invented the Fountain of Youth here? I feel quite enervated. Are there any side effects or warning signs I should be aware of?"  
  
"None that I can foresee. However, you may want to observe yourself when you make a wand or any other magical object." Snape answered. "I don't know yet if there are special effects for a wizard such as yourself. Please contact me immediately if you feel any negative symptoms."  
  
A subdued McGonagall stood up and walked towards the main door. "If there is nothing else, Severus, I will return to my duties."   
  
Ollivander rushed past her to open the door for her. "Minerva, we will talk about this. I'll find you before I leave, shall I ?" 

Professor McGonagall looked like she was about to say something but simply nodded and left. Mr. Ollivander exhaled and turned to smile at the potions master. "Severus, when you came into my store to buy your first wand I knew you would do great things."  
  
"I suspect that you say that to every young child when they get their first wand," Snape smiled indulgently at the genial older man.  
  
"Perhaps. But still you have indeed done me a great favor today," Ollivander countered. At Snape's inquisitive look he replied. "Another chance, Severus, and I do not intend to waste it with foolish prattling. Take my advise when you have a woman right where you want her, do not hesitate. be primitive, be courtly, be aloof, be angry, be anything you want just don't hesitate."  
  
Before Snape could say anything the other door leading from the other office opened. Dumbledore ducked his head in looking about the room. "Is it done? Where is she? Everything all right?"  
  
"She's gone, Albus, you may come out now," said Mr. Ollivander. "Oh, don't look so worried. The worse she can do is turn you into a horned tree frog again."  
  
"This coming from a man who does not know how it feels to subsist on flies for weeks. I have blamed Minerva for my sugar tooth thereafter." flared the headmaster. He sat in his chair once more. "You are so blinded by her virtues that you choose to ignore how vindictive she can be."  
  
"I think she's mellowed as we all have. Mr. Ollivander had both hands pressed on Dumbledore's desk and the two were sniping at each other at close quarters almost nose to nose. "But you've mellowed AND gotten soft headed in your dotage! You should have told me that this was going to be a surprise to her."

Snape and Flitwick followed this rapid-fire exchange with great interest. Snape turned to Flitwick and said, "This is not something I want to know about, is it?" 

To which Flitwick replied "To quote you 'Your assumption is correct.' One of these days though do try to get the frog story out of Albus. It puts him in a whole new light."  
  
"If I had, Flavius, you would have played the gallant and refused out of consideration for her feelings while she would have probably resigned to avoid having to deal with you. Pairing the two of you in this made sense. Both your roles are too integral to our plans. You'll have some added protection on your forays while I can sleep at night knowing that you won't disappear into thin air without us at least knowing about it."  
  
"You could at least have made it her choice," piped in Flitwick.  
  
"Et tu, Filius? You knew and never said a word against it," Dumbledore was getting rather red in the face by this point.  
  
"Nothing. Nothing anyone could have said would have swayed you. We both know that." said Flitwick with some finality.  
  
"She's gone all quiet. That usually means trouble ahead," posed Ollivander. He saw the dawning look of realization on Dumbledore's face and added. "We'll keep things to a dull roar, Albus. I'll do my part anyway. I'm off to catch up with Pomfrey. I'll see you all at lunch." With that he glided out of the room.  
  
"How long are you going to hide in your office this time, Albus?" Flitwick asked hypothetically knowing that that was exactly what his friend was planning on doing. "I'll see you at lunch as well." Flitwick left to attend to other matters.  
  
Snape had not moved from his position. He was intrigued and shocked by the revelations of his elders. Plus, he was enjoying far too much seeing the tables turned on Dumbledore. It so rarely happened. 

"They are estranged, Severus," Dumbledore explained.  
  
"As in ...?" Snape began curiosity getting the better of his survival instincts.  
  
"Estranged, just estranged. That particular matter stays in this room. Now, I need to tell you that we have confirmed that Voldemort has contacts high up in the Ministry feeding him information knowingly or unknowingly. Misinformation is your department. How do we use this to our advantage?"  
  
The two men settled in for what promised to be a long brainstorming session. Or at least long enough for Professor McGonagall to cool down allowing Dumbledore to emerge from his haven.

  


~ * ~

  


  
The greenhouses of Hogwarts and what it housed were often taken for granted. Plants were plants mostly benign and beautiful and all quite manageable most of the time. One forgets that of all things in existence plants are the oldest living things on earth surviving ice ages, meteors, predators, natural catastrophes and man's ascendancy and all the things that man has since wrought - acid rain, deforestation, pollution and global warming to name a few. Humanity needs plants and trees for sustenance, shelter, industry and pleasure but do plants need humanity? In fact, a heretical viewpoint could offer that plant life in general simply tolerates the human factor and goes blithely on its natural business of organic survival and evolution day in day out no matter what humanity thinks to do. No reason to panic when man invents weapons for Armageddon, after all, it is man's own Armageddon and nature will find a way to take care of its own as it always has.  
  
As Professor Sinistra sat next to Mr. Filch in Greenhouse Five in Professor Sprout's private workroom, her worldview had taken a drastic three hundred sixty degree turn. When she had received Professor Sprout's congratulatory post assigning her as a new tactical second for Siege and Defense, Sinistra had been frankly disappointed. However, as she sat there listening to Sprout outline plans she realized that this arena was even more exciting and creative than being on the front lines. Plant life was awe-inspiring in its depth and breadth. Using plants as offensive and defensive instruments was a novel concept but already she could see the possibilities. It was ironic that she who had sought her dreams in the stars but fell headlong to the firmament now found that the earth held for her far more promise and fascination.  
  
Mr. Filch, the second most loathed man in Hogwarts after Professor Snape, had not been disappointed at his appointment. Actually, he had Sprout's post framed and in a secure place. He planned to show it off at his next family reunion after the war and, if he missed the reunion but not the war, well, at least, his family would know he'd turned out decent. He loved Hogwarts even more than the headmaster, he suspected. If anyone was going to defend it to the death, he was honored to be among those in a position to do so. He cannily approved of Professor Sprout's strategy of using natural things for defense and offense and admired the Hufflepuff professor's guile and hidden aggressiveness just now coming to the fore. He really shouldn't be surprised, he thought, in nature the female was often stronger and more dangerous than the male. He then looked at Sinistra and noticed the change in the astronomer's body language. She had entered rather distant but now her elbows were on the table, eyes straight on at Sprout and writing down notes eagerly. Heh, the young one is finally realizing that her elders do know a thing or two and she'd do well to listen now and again.  
  
"I think that we should vary the degree of the effects in proportion to its position to the castle. The furthest ones should do the least harm and the closer ones should outright kill," Sprout pronounced.  
  
"Why not just set all of them to kill?" asked Sinistra.  
  
"Though expedient it would expose our hand too early. Any attacker would learn to blast any plant or flower in their vicinity before advancing." Sprout sat back and looked at her blackboard scribbled with a myriad series of notes and diagrams. Contrary to popular opinion, her personal working office was spotless and organized to the nth degree. Her bookcase was filled with volumes ranging from archeology to modern muggle engineering. An angled drafting table in one corner drew the eye because of its incongruity with the image of what one expects of the Herbology professor. Detailed, technical diagrams adorned the walls. A large-scale true to life model of Hogwarts and the grounds served as a center table in the room and beside it was a Hogsmeade model that was almost complete. The ordered directness of the place was eerily unlike the pleasant, soothing chaos of the greenhouses. "No, subtlety is the sure way. Remember, it has to look natural."  
  
"Perhaps, make 'em a little tired, then confuse 'em a bit. As they get closer, we hit 'em with the real disorientation spells, then body weakening effects followed by body poisons and then if they're a mite stubborn the painfully permanent effects." Filch suggested with apparent relish.  
  
Sprout looked down at her model moving pieces around trying to find the most effective arrangements. "I like the ideas so far. I want you, Sinistra, to brainstorm the actual plants and delivery mechanisms. Filch, you know the terrain, study how to best implement what we come up with and decide the best places to deploy them include the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade in your plans. Remember our main goal is prevent the attacker from knowing that he or she is under attack. Think of softening them up for the attack teams. Better they surrender than risk any more of us than necessary. If they do get too close, then we use the hard stuff but only as a last resort."  
  
"Define last resort, Cera." asked Sinistra. "How close is close?  
  
"Too close is crossbow range. Last resort is a siege at the front doors of the castle, but before they get in. I want twice weekly meetings with you both and individual daily meetings one on one maybe at mealtimes. We will appropriate other resources as needed. Filch continue to work with Hagrid and the Baron. Sinistra get together with Pince and maybe Vector. Our optimal timeline is four months, five at the latest."  
  
"Are we tryin' to beat Flitwick's time, Cera?" asked Filch.  
  
"Not exactly but a little competition never hurts." Sprout smiled and winked. "Defense needs to be ready before arms and armor simply because we need to be ready to hold them off. We stay alive until Filius gets a chance to attack. Besides, I think we're going to be tested before the six months time frame, after all our secondary charge is protecting Harry Potter without him knowing we are. We're going to need Granger, Longbottom and Snape for that."  
  
"I still don't understand Vector and Longbottom as his seconds but Severus must know what he's doing," said Sinistra doubtfully.  
  
"Oh, Longbottom's all right, sensible chap. I'd worry more if it were Malfoy. That one definitely worries me." commented Filch.  
  
"What's wrong with Malfoy other than his family?" asked Professor Sprout.  
  
"He's the one, Cera, whose been testing the Blessing. The Baron saw him a few months ago setting up his equipment in one of the buried dungeons. Reported it to me and Snape. Don't know how he got to them dungeons. They're buried for a reason." informed Filch. "Too bad Malfoy hasn't met up with what lives down there."  
  
Sprout grinned suddenly enlightened. "So, Malfoy is Snape's combined bird dog and stalking goat. I must give Severus my compliments at lunch. Excellent strategy and Malfoy doesn't know a thing.

  


~ * ~

  


Lunch was an eternity for Hermione. She longed to continue reading the other documents given by Professor McGonagall but how could she do so in the crowded hall. She had so many questions but had had no time to put them all on parchment. But what was really setting her teeth on edge were the lectures and seminars she was attending taught by seemingly incompetent people. Oh, most of them were average but what they were saying sounded like it had come straight out of a textbook almost verbatim. Text books which she had already read. It seemed so pointless at least to her. Everyone else prattled on about how amazing their seminars had been. Across from her Ron was regaling Harry with stories about his wizards chess seminar. Harry was going on and on about wandless magic. She spied Neville down the table and firmly squelched the urge to talk to him remembering Professor McGonagall's instruction to wait until after the meeting.  
  
She chanced a quick look at the High Table. There was Professor Snape sitting next to Vector. Professor Flitwick had Professors Hooch and Pince on either side. Professor McGonagall had Professor Trelawney on her left and Dumbledore to the right. Professor Sprout was talking animatedly with Professor Sinistra. Well, she knew what they must be talking about however obliquely. She also saw the Bloody Baron appear by Professor Snape. Snape quickly stood up and strode out of the side door almost at a run. Professor Sinistra followed him out after getting a quickly whispered instruction from Professor Sprout.  
  
The cause of the hurried conversations at the High table was someone prowling about in the dungeons. The young man had been in dungeons before but none were this forbidding or extensive. The map was hardly adequate what with inner dungeons, subterranean dungeons, the sunken dungeons, the buried dungeons and Merlin only knew what wasn't on the map. He told himself that it was just inhibitor wards making him feel uncomfortable. He shook his head saying to himself that he was being ridiculous seeing shadows were there were none. The sounds he was hearing was just the wind. If his navigation was correct the way to the subterranean dungeons was somewhere close by. He walked on his wand alight.  
  
Further down the he heard a female voice say "Don't be in such a rush."  
  
"Someone advised me to never hesitate," a man's deep voice replied. Having nowhere else to go he followed the voices.  
  
"Some things are better slow and steady," said the female voice not shrill, pleasant in fact.  
  
"Fast and furious gets the job done, too." the male voice replied.  
  
"Maybe where you come from but -" The young man saw Professors Sinistra and Professor Snape examining a wall. Most curiously water dripped from the walls and collecting as watery pools on the floor.  
  
Professor Snape saw him and said, "Mr. Douglas, isn't it? As you can see we are having a slight plumbing problem. This part of the dungeon is close to an underwater river. It gets leaks all the time."  
  
Sinistra said on cue, "Know anything about plumbing, Mr. Douglas? This is the second restraining wall we've had to put up. It's always flooding in."  
  
"I'm afraid you're on your own, Professors." replied Douglas.  
  
Sinistra suggested "Severus, let's just ward this entire corridor off until Filch gets to fixing it."  
  
"Sounds like the only thing we can do for now," Snape conjectured inspecting the fragmentary cracks. "I'll suggest to the headmaster that we just collapse this entire corridor and fill it in. No one uses it anyway."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Douglas, we're ignoring you. Is there anything you need?" Sinistra said her voice dripping with apology.  
  
"No, no, I just got lost is all. This castle is enormous. How do I get back to the main hall?"  
  
"I would be happy to show you the way back," Sinistra smiled her most becoming smile and led Douglas down the way he came. 

In the background they could hear Snape saying the ward spells however with no wand it was rather pointless. Snape waited a few minutes to make sure that they were gone before he removed the illusion spells from the corridor revealing a clean and definitely dry corridor.  
  
At the far end of the corridor one could see an intimidating portcullis that gleamed silver and a few meters behind that was a very solid looking door. Demos stood by the portcullis trying to materialize through but on the first try he was rebuffed. It tried to push through one transparent finger through the bars. A flash of light and a sharp buzzing sound greeted him and he found himself thrown on his back a few meters away. Snape laughed and said "I did tell you that there was one place even you couldn't get into."  
  
As Demos and Snape were merging, the Fat Friar materialized. The Friar waited a minute for the joining to be completed before saying "Professor Snape, Madam Genevieve Longbottom has arrived and is awaiting you in your office. May I ask, is that painful? What does he feel like?"  
  
"The merging with Demos? It's not painful, not anymore." Snape's long strides were fast getting them to his office. "It used to feel rather clammy but now it just feels like I've swallowed a lot of wind."  
  
"Curious young fellow. Been asking questions of all the ghosts and house elves," the Friar informed.  
  
"Really, what kind of questions?" Snape asked.  
  
"You mean you don't share the same consciousness?" said the Friar.  
  
"No, we are distinct personalities and I only get impressions of what Demos is thinking or doing." said Snape. "So, what questions is he asking?"  
  
"Oh, like what's the difference between him and a ghost. He's most curious about food," the Friar looked at Snape. "Funny the things he knows and the things he doesn't. Peeves is scared to near death of him."  
  
"Friar, I would appreciate it if you would spread the word to the others that Demos is like a child in many ways. There are aspects of being a human being that he knows nothing about,"  
  
"Why not? I though lost souls retained their memories surely ." but Snape didn't let the Friar continue.  
  
"He was never human, Friar, lost or otherwise." Snape stepped into his office.

He left behinda dumbfounded friar hovering by the door muttering, "Never human? Not a ghost or a misplaced soul. Then what is he?"  
  
Professor Severus Snape entered his office to find a formidable matriarch of the Longbottom family waiting for him. "Madam, a pleasure. Thank you for coming."  
  
"Cut to the chase, Professor, your time is valuable and so is mine. What did you want to discuss about Neville that has both Albus and Minerva so tight-lipped?" The matriarch looked directly at Snape.  
  
Snape walked around her and perched himself on one corner of the desk. "The last time we spoke it was about Neville's progress at the beginning of the term. I have since observed him in class and out, as well as testing his abilities obliquely. His power levels are near the high end of the scale and -"  
  
"They are ?!" Madam Longbottom's surprise was genuine. "But he can hardly do anything right except for herbology and sometimes potions now. Even a simple accio is dangerous. There must be a mistake."  
  
"The mistake is that he was never shown the extent of his powers and never taught to fully control that power. Through his lack of full control coupled with his rather high failure rate he has convinced himself that he is hopeless. To avoid more failures he subconsciously suppresses his power. But magic is a law onto itself, it finds a way to express itself thus explosions, bad charms and so forth." Snape explained.  
  
"He's never shown signs of his powers. I've told you how we used to try anything to provoke a response from him." she explained.  
  
"There are cases of those who come into their magic later in life. However, in the case of your grandson based on the tests I've performed, I am more of the opinion that he is afraid of his magic and I do not believe that he even knows that. Neville, I have observed, goes out of his way to be gentle and it has, unfortunately, made him the brunt of many jokes, especially from my own House. However, he is a very resilient personality, very grounded. Now, were his magic properly harnessed his self doubts would be erased."  
  
"If you are right, what do we do?" she asked her concern and love evident in her face. "I love Neville though I know I am far too strict with him. I have sheltered him and kept him out of harms way as best I can."  
  
"The only thing I can advise is to stop sheltering him and let him grow. I propose and with your permission I would very much like to take on the task of becoming his mentor. I will teach and train him about his magic and his control." said Snape. "As part of that training, I would have him involved in projects. I assure you he will be completely safe."  
  
"I am peripherally aware of your projects, Professor, through Arabella Figg. Money transfers especially muggle to wizard take much work to be transparent and fooling Gringotts is no small skill." With a quick movement of her wand, the door was warded closed and a Circle of Anomi invoked.  
  
"I see another club member. You have my compliments, Madame," Snape relaxed imperceptibly.  
  
"What kinds of projects do you have in mind for him?" she queried.  
  
"Under the guise of an independent study Potions class, Neville would be helping me sift and analyze through the information from our various sources. Keep track of operative activities and generally know where most of the skeletons are buried. As a student, he will be able to observe and report on activity from that quarter. He would not be a field agent that I promise you."  
  
"Why Neville?" She studied the potions master carefully.   
  
"I need a student contact. But, more importantly, I need someone I can trust and someone that I am convinced is pathologically incapable of doing the morally wrong thing. He is also psychologically strong with a balanced well adjusted personality and ego all traits suitable for intelligence work."  
  
"As you say, I cannot shelter him any more and throwing him to the wolves at once or slowly makes little difference." she concluded. "You seem to genuinely care about Neville, Professor, contrary to what I've heard about you. I will trust your judgment on this. However, I want you to fully explain to him everything he needs to know so he can make a rational decision. He is fifteen now and he should be the one to make that decision."  
  
"Agreed," Snape said. "I can summon him now and we can both talk to him."  
  
Madame Longbottom nodded her agreement. Snape wrote a quick note and had it delivered to Neville via a house elf. While they waited, Snape made some tea. Madame Longbottom said stirring her tea "Professor, how did you test Neville without his consent or knowledge?"  
  
"In the only way I could. In class, I subjected him to the most rigorous and perilous of situations. Stress under fire is a good judge of character." Snape answered. "No matter what I did to him in class, he would keep coming back!"  
  
When Neville Longbottom arrived short of breath and more than a little apprehensive it was to a sight that would be forever emblazoned on his memory - his grandmother and potions master sipping tea and laughing like they had known each other for years.  
  
The staff breathed a collective sigh of relief as the last visitor was escorted to the Hogwarts gates. The Baron's team of ghosts and house elves, Filch and Hagrid did a complete sweep of the castle and grounds after the visitors left.  
  
At exactly 8pm that night, all the members of the Club including their two most junior student members filed silently pass the portcullis, through the massive door of wood and dwarvish steel into the most secure and ancient place in all of Hogwarts - the Founders Room of Counsel.  
  



	9. The Founders Room of Counsel

**  


Chapter 9

  
  


The Founders Room of Counsel

  
**

Nothing glittered of gold, nothing dazzled with the brilliance of rare gems and nothing drew the eye by dint of ostentation or gilt. No, the room was humble in décor no marble columns nor colorful tapestries to distract. It needed no great care to adorn or display its purpose or tone. The room simply was and that was more than enough. It was high-ceilinged, spacious. At its center were two ovals one inside the other. The outer oval was carpeted in course gray fabric while the inner oval one riser down was covered in blue. A large square table of polished bloodwood lined with eight ironwood chairs on each side dominated the inner oval.  
  
On the four points of the table but situated on the outer oval were four chairs not quite thrones but not common either. Each high backed chair was hewn of different woods. One chair in deep, dark mahogany for Godric Gryffindor. Helga Hufflepuff preferred strong English brown oak. Exotic macassar ebony was the only choice for Salazar Slytherin while Rowena Ravenclaw had favored delicate sandalwood. Other chairs of teak dotted the outer oval. Light came from dozens of sconces on the walls and from fixtures hanging from the ceiling on great interlocking chains. Two fireplaces blazed with open fires on opposite sides of the room. Besides the main entry doors, there were two other closed doors one light and one dark.  
  
The room was made for gathering, for conversation, for teaching and for debates. What it was not made for was inactivity or indecision. Nonplussed, the headmaster and the heads of houses did not bother to look about taking seats around the center table. The others gawked and gaped as they stood in one dumb founded cluster paralyzed by the history of the room and the palpable presence of the founders' strong personalities. Here in this room they first met. In this room they taught their first students. Here was the circle of four broken.  
  
Albus Dumbledore looking very much at home stood up, loudly cleared his throat and said, "Please everyone, take a seat! It is growing late and have much to discuss." 

Startled into action, the rest took their seats. Some shook their heads in disbelief while others fingered the table with awe and respect. Pitchers of pumpkin juice, carafes of tea and sandwiches appeared around the table.  
  
"We are in this room today because this place and what it stands for is what we are fighting to preserve. Our conflict should not be about purebloods, muggles or even about the governance of wizards and witches. We are here to uphold and continue the work envisioned and begun by the four founders. To give of us and of ourselves so that we may teach, nurture and protect our charges in the hope of all prospering for the benefit of our kind." Dumbledore paused and looked at all the those around him memorizing how they looked - hopeful, exhilarated, inspired, determined. He put away the memory to keep until a day so dark, doubful and terrible that only this memory would sustain him. "Hogwarts is the instrument and fulfillment of that vision. Every year, I and the heads of houses come here to remember and pledge anew our dedication to this work. I have brought you all here tonight to make clear our mission, our goal, our plans and why we must not fail. But, most of all, realize that this . this idea, this wondrously simple philosophy, is what we have asked your help to preserve and continue." He nodded at Professor McGonagall who stood and addressed the group.  
  
"From its inception, Hogwarts was created in a spirit of joy and benevolence. The four founders worked harmoniously together for many decades forming a thriving circle of learning and contribution amongst themselves and with their students, those in attendance as well as those who had graduated. But the circle was weakened by suspicion and mistrust and, finally, broken by betrayal and death. After the passing of Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff organized the school to survive after them. They appointed the first heads of houses Piero Ollivandros for Ravenclaw, Allred Bones for Hufflepuff, Mikhail Lohngas for Gryffindor and Magnus Snape for Slytherin. These four created our school charter, our codes of conduct, created the houses, initiated the program of house points and demerits, drafted our formal curriculum, developed the Forbidden Forest, and created the positions of headmaster and headmistress. Together, pooling all their magical energy, they cast the Blessing of Benevolence over our school. Then, they submitted themselves to the most selfless of acts. They erased all mention of their contributions giving all credit to the four founders who were themselves their teachers and sponsors. Every headmaster, headmistress and head of house has since then strived to emulate their motives and achievements. Thus, in this way was the legend and mystique of Hogwarts created and we continue the work started so long ago." Professor McGonagall sat down and Professor Flitwick stood up on his chair.  
  
"These four first heads of houses were, after their teachers, the most scholarly and powerful wizards of their time. The Blessing of Benevolence is more a benediction than a spell. It is in a way the very reverse of a curse. It's power is raw, its casting complex and its construction both elegant and mysterious. No record in any form remains concerning the blessing other than that which is handed down generation to generation. We only know that each wizard gave a part of themselves to create the blessing. We also know that the blessing was conditioned for its time and place. About fifty years ago, the headmaster recognized that the blessing was becoming unstable. At the time, nothing was known and temporary measures were put in place to counter the blessing's deterioration. Since then every head of house, headmaster and headmistress has contributed their energy and power to the sustenance of the blessing for as long as they are at Hogwarts. The strain on the donors, for lack of a better term, has been increasing especially as the blessing's deterioration has accellerated recently. Professor McGonagall and I have discovered that the cause of the instability and the acceleration was and is the opening of the Chamber of Secrets. We theorize that the opening of the chamber changed the original condition of the blessing's casting thereby causing the instability. The second opening of the chamber three years back severely affected the blessing more so than the first time. Why, we do not know. We estimate that the blessing will expire fully in five months. We hope that our solution will be ready by then." Professor Flitwick sat back and Professor Sprout rose.  
  
"In the time of founding, you must recall, magic was wild and those few who were able to harness it had an instrument of pure, unadulterated power at their command. Thus they were forced to develop the discipline to wield that power with skill and seeming ease. Magic, in our times, has become somewhat diluted by history and circumstance, except for a very, very few bloodlines. Thus, we cannot recreate the blessing nor can we copy it and recast it in a more modern mold. No, we had to find another more permanent solution. Three months ago, I bioengineered a new plant using both magic and muggle means. This plant is not wholly natural nor wholly unnatural. It exists in a plane different from our existence. It can never be touched by anything of our dimension. I have slowly nurtured it and it is now the size of a small tree. As any living thing, it needs energy to grow. So, I created it to absorb minute amounts of energy from all of the school's inhabitants. As the plant has grown it has required more energy. For the last two months certain professors and staff have taken turns sitting by the tree giving their energy to accelerate its growth. Two weeks ago, Professor Snape casted a spell to forever enjoin the plant's life cycle to Hogwarts. As it grows to full maturity, it will lend a blanket of protection over the school for as long as the plant or any succeeding offspring is alive. Every year a new plant will be grown. For each succeeding tree the blanket of protection increases in strenght and vitality. In this way, a natural cycle of protection will continue to shield this school after we are gone. Every day now, the plant grows exponentially and we have found energy sources to feed its growth. However, we are racing to develop the tree fully or as fully as we can before the blessing expires. In four months time, I expect the tree to be only halfway to maturity. We need to buy time for the tree to grow." The head of Hufflepuff sat down and the head of Slytherin stood up.  
  
"Time is a rare and increasingly expensive commodity. We are faced with an inevitability that none can ignore or forestall. I speak of the dark lord Voldemort. He is aware of the blessing's deterioration and he sees that as an omen of good fortune for his second ascendancy. So, while we have planned and developed this new Tree of Blessings, we, the headmaster and heads of houses have always been aware that we stand alone and must stand alone. For months now we have strategized and made our own plans to deal with Voldemort as well as finish the Tree of Blessings. You have been selected to carry out that plan. It is much that is expected of you - to defend, to attack, to restore, to preserve, to heal, to spy, to act opposite to your very natures. In your innermost hearts and minds know that what you are preserving, Hogwarts, is more than a place or a building. It is a source of power in its own right. This power is inherent in the soil, in each stone, in every drop of water and crap of wood that exists and resides here. It is a power that Voldemorts lusts to have and use. Harry Potter is the key to defeating Voldemort. We here are key to the survival of Hogwarts. We must barter, buy, borrow and beg for every second of time we can for both Potter's sake and the Tree of Blessings. Never forget that Voldemort, too, is planning and marshalling his forces for defense, attack and intelligence. The game is in motion and it may take years to complete but it has begun and we are playing to win."  
  
The others sat back each absorbing in their own way the import of what they had just heard and what they must do. After a few minutes of silence Professor Sybil Trelawney stood up to address the group. None was more surprised than Hermione Granger nor more proud than Minerva McGonagall by what she said, "Enough with the speeches, then, we have work to do. The first priority is the Tree of Blessings. How can we accelarate its growth even more?"  
  
Professor Sprout gave a quick approving nod to Professor McGonagall before saying, "The easiest way is to have more tree sitters at least three a night to start. Otherwise, more house points will be lost to its voracious appetite."  
  
Hermione couldn't help herself she rocked back in her seat exclaiming in a voice heavy with disbelief and dusted by sarcasm. "That ... that thing has been eating our house points all this time !? It doesn't seem to like the other houses much."  
  
"No need to make the matter personal, Ms Granger. Apparently, it finds the taste of your house to be more like citrus which it favors being a plant after all." Snape informed her.  
  
"It talks to you?" asked Dumbledore. "But you have never -"  
  
"Not me, Albus. It doesn't talk to me," Snape explained his voice heavy with hidden meaning.  
  
"Out of curiosity, what is my house's flavor, Severus?" asked Flitwick.  
  
"Ravenclaw is tangy and light to the palate like an unripe mango. Hufflepuff is very sweet and rich like tropical breadfruit. Slytherin is slightly bitter and sugary like eucalyptus leaves." Snape had lapsed into an almost trance-like state recalling how the points tasted. His voice was lighter, younger but the timbre and dark fullness was the same. Even his body seemed to have drifted into a more relaxed state far from its usual coiled intensity.  
  
Deducing that she was seeing first hand what must have happened in the Great Hall poetry debacle, Trelawney decided a distraction was needed until Snape regained control again. She loudly and firmly said "Professor Sprout, I shall draft a new roster of tree sitters and the new rotation starts tomorrow night. Are there any requirements I should be aware of?"  
  
Professor Sprout realizing the seer's tactic immediately replied with equal volume. "For maximum effect there should be at least one or more volunteers for that night. The sitters have to sleep in cots in the sunken dungeons. Not comfortable at all and one always wakes up with a horrible headache and the feeling and tension of someone who had not slept at all. Best have several cups of strong coffee on hand the next day. Professor Snape, Mr. Longbottom and Ms Granger are exempt from tree duty."  
  
"We don't want to be excluded just because we're students and can't sleep in the dungeons. We're all supposed to be helping." pointed out Neville drawing many stares and strange looks.  
  
"Yes, you are correct. Thank you for reminding us, Mr. Longbottom. Consider finding a way for both of you to participate in tree duty from the comforts of your own beds to be your first assignment." The Head of Slytherin firmly back in control. 

Neville nodded and scribbled a note about it which he promptly crossed off and rewrote in a more legible fashion. Hermione was in turn looking back and forth and back again between Neville and her potions master. She was unable to decide who was behaving more out of character.  
  
Professor Sinistra piped up with a question "Are there going to be more visitors over the next few months that we should be made aware of? Siege and Defense would prefer to have a free hand for a while and having to watch for intruders will slow us down.  
  
"Ah, a good question. The Ministry has not indicated that they wish to have more seminars in the near future. However, we should always work under the assumption that we may be under observation at any time either by the Ministry or Voldemort's minions so make the appropriate plans." Dumbledore said.  
  
"Good. The seminars were rather useless," Hermione had said the words more for herself but hadn't caught herself before all in the room heard her comment. _Good Granger, open mouth, insert foot repeatedly_.  
  
"Most of them were graduate students paid to lecture on certain topics and look professorial," informed Professor Flitwick. "Although based on what lectures I observed whoever taught them was wholly inadequate or badly misinformed."  
  
"How did you find that out, Filius?" asked Snape. "All their names checked out at the Ministry Auror registry."  
  
"I borrowed a page from your book, Severus. I was courteous, polite and utterly charming." answered the diminutive teacher with a definite gleam in his eye.  
  
That comment elicited much laughter and snickering and eased much of the growing tension in the room. Hagrid boomed out with his own request. "Oy, me medic crew'd like to have sum live bodies to be practicin' on. Can sum'um make arrangements?"  
  
Professor McGonagall looked up from her notes. "Ms Granger, that is right up your alley. Please plan something to allow the house elves to have their practice."  
  
"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied meekly adding yet another item to her assignments. _One's past does indeed have a way of catching up to one when one was least expecting it._

The meeting broke up into many more smaller discussion groups with various people, mostly Trelawney and Granger, flitting from one group to another.  
  
"We have the matter of a need for additional funding. Albus has informed me that the Ministry is planning on cutting our budget yet again. We need to find other sources of private funding, increase our current investments or both. Planning and Logistics is pursuing the secondary options but if anyone has suggestions for new funding please let me know." McGonagall announced.  
  
Mr. Ollivander from across the table looked the headmistress in the eye. "Arabella Figg and I have been exploring an option that by sheer coincidence fell into our laps, Minerva. I would love to speak to you about it later."  
  
There was a minute's hesitation before McGonagall replied with barely detectable but clearly present venom. "Since Arabella is concerned, it would be best that you and she continue to work on it without any interference from me whatsoever."  
  
"There are intricacies that must be discussed and planned for at length, " Mr. Ollivander pressed on with a look of abject innocence. "In fact, I expect this new opportunity will probably require so much of my time and devotion that I had, before this meeting, informed my son that he has charge of the business until otherwise notified. Consider me and my presence to be entirely at your disposal. I'll need a room here, Minerva, if you would be so kind."  
  
"Very well, I'll have a set of rooms made up for you in the Ravenclaw section. You do remember where that is?" McGonagall's voice was controlled, calm and icy. "Sybil will be taking over our funding and investment strategies, Flavius. Sybil, please coordinate this new option with Mr. Ollivander here."  
  
Mr. Ollivander just smiled enigmatically. A select few who had looked upon the exchange with more than passing interest were trying very hard to not smile or look too interested as the imaginary gauntlet was flung at the headmistress' feet which. A gauntlet that she had unhesitatingly picked up and threw with some force back to the unflinching wand maker. It was going to be an interesting few months indeed.

  


~ * ~

  


  
  
In the beginning, nine young people stood around the square table tall, straight, proud and only a little nervous. They were the first to succeed, the first to fail, the brightest, the best, the most with the highest expectations to bear and the most favored. Around them, here at last meal, the other students looked at them with respect, admiration and envy.  
  
Helga Hufflepuff stood up and announced to all "Heed me and listen! The following students are to be presented: Allred Bones, Glenna Finch, Isabel Les Strange, Mikhail Lohngas, Angus McGonagall, Pieros Ollivandros, Mariel de Rosier, and Magnus Snape."  
  
After all the students had been called, Godric Gryffindor gazed proudly and fondly in turn at each of the students and said. "Our congratulations to you all. You have exceeded our hopes and expectations. We look with hope and more than a little impatience upon what you will make of yourselves."  
  
"We have laughed together. We have shared mistakes. We have taught you what we know but we have certainly learned as much from you," added Rowena Ravenclaw.  
  
Helga Hufflepuff said beaming with joy "You have studied hard and learned well. We hope that together you all will prosper and enrich our world for the better. Salazar, I believe a toast is in order."  
  
Salazar Slytherin smiled and nodded at Helga. He stood and with glass outstretched before him said "At your command, milady. To our graduating class, the first honor is justly yours. Carry forth in confidence, safety and solidarity knowing that you now blaze a trail of excellence and tradition that others will follow. To our first graduates!"  



	10. Honest Traveler Borne on a Twisted Path

**  


Chapter 10

  
  


An Honest Traveler Borne on a Twisting Path

  
**

  
  
Lucius Malfoy wore the mantle of noblesse oblige with masculine grace and magnetic charisma. But without the sincerity that would have marked him as a true nobleman, he invariably came off as someone who was trying too hard to be convincing. It did help greatly that he looked and acted the part but appearances seldom mattered to those who knew better. As he walked through the corridors of the Ministry nodding to those who acknowledged him and greeting those whom he had no choice but to acknowledge, he mused on the vagaries of fate. Here he was scion to one of the richest and oldest of wizarding families yet having to curry favor from and attend to those of ancestry so common as to be only two steps above a house elf in his estimation. He reached the Minister's office. He was immediately ushered into the Minister's office.  
  
Malfoy put on a mask of cheery unconcern. "Minister, good morning to you. I was hoping you could help with a small project."   
  
"Certainly, Lucius, always ready to help," answered Cornelius Fudge. "I owe you one for suggesting the idea about the seminar electives at Hogwarts. The school board was most pleased."  
  
"You're very welcome, Minister. Always on the look out for anything to better my alma mater as it were. As to what I need help on, I've been asked to prepare a brief for the trustees meeting next week and I need some reference materials about Hogwarts."  
  
"I know just the man to help you. Come with me." Fudge led the way to an anteroom where several desks were occupied by busy looking men and women. He approached the desk of a lean, dark-haired young man whose placard read "Operational Research Assistant".  
  
"Good morning, William," Fudge introduced the two. "I assigned Douglas to run the Hogwarts seminar for me. William, Lucius here needs some research and I know that you're just the one to help him."  
  
"I'll do my best. Mr. Malfoy, I believe what you may need is in the reference library," Douglas said. "Please follow me." 

Malfoy followed him out of the Minister's office. "What did you make of Hogwarts, Douglas?"  
  
"Not what I expected. The place is supposed to be legendary. I suppose I expected to be knocked off my feet. The grounds were very impressive as was the castle itself on first impressions. But I'm afraid the staff and faculty did not strike me as worthy of the place. I saw a few of the faculty dead asleep in the staff room in the middle of the day. I was talking to the the astronomy professor and she kept going on and on about the amazing plant cuttings to be found in the greenhouses. And the classroom assigned to me looked like it had been hastily fixed up after a bomb blast."  
  
They descended a few flights before reaching the door to the reference library with Douglas continued to rant. "You were right to suspect that all was not right over there, sir. To think that I dreamed of being accepted at Hogwarts when I was a kid."  
  
"Well, I've known for years that the staff was cut-rate with some exceptions," Malfoy added. "How about the castle infrastructure itself? Repairs to those would be very expensive."  
  
"The foundation seemed sound for the most part. Parts of the dungeon were flood hazards though. I couldn't find the different dungeons specifically. I had no idea that dungeons could be that extensive. Perhaps if I had another day to ."  
  
"I see, but no matter. I thank you for the information," Malfoy said.  
  
"It was nothing, sir. The least I could do to repay you and your family for my university scholarship. My family wouldn't have been able to send me to school. Look at me now working at the Ministry and thanks to your recommendation I'm assisting the Minister himself. Whatever you need from me, sir, just ask."  
  
"It is nothing less than what you deserve, Douglas, believe me, nothing less." Malfoy smiled wolfishly. "Now, please procure for me any references available regarding Hogwarts founding and the ancient families. I understand that some of these things are restricted however I'm planning a historical brief for a trustees meeting next week. Any supporting material would be a great help."  
  
"Of course, let me go see about those references. I have clearance for the restricted material. It should be no problem seeing that it's you, sir." 

As Douglas left, Lucius Malfoy was in deep thought replaying in his mind all of the information Douglas had unwittingly given him. _So, the blessing is having more of an impact it seems. Certainly more than what Snape had been saying._ _Of course, Snape has been saying less and less these days. He hardly attends any of the meetings unless specifically requested by Voldemort. Very convenient and also very suspicious._

  


~ * ~

  


That day's transfiguration class was brutal. A physically drained fifth year Gryffindor class walked out with a new appreciation and fear of their normally kind if strict head of house. Professor McGonagall had surprised them midpoint in class by announcing that the class was going to begin studying offensive transfiguration. She stood in front of the room. 

In her most stern manner she told them, "Transfiguration is not to be taken lightly as its effects could be permanent and could be worse than actually dying. Transfiguration as a weapon should only be used as the absolute last resort in self defense."  
  
"But, professor, changing your opponent to a ferret before he can get to you seems a whole lot better alternative than letting him get a shot at you first," Ron observed.  
  
"I agree on that point, Mr. Weasley, however, I need to point out that while you were preparing yourself to cast the spell you have left yourself open to attack. You can't very well cast your spell if you are laying on the ground experiencing the Cruciatus, can you?" McGonagall explained. "Transfiguration spells require intense and steady concentration. Only the most accomplished caster can even move while casting a spell on the run. It is because of that reason that transfiguration spells are usually used last to finally incapacitate your opponent once and for all."  
  
"Last week you learned how to transfigure an object into a box. Now, I want to see how well you all learned it." Suddenly around her appeared several round multicolored octagonal orbs floating in mid air. Each ball then moved to hover in front of a student. "Each one of these balls are keyed to one of you. Your assignment for the rest of the rest of this class is to transform your orbs into a box. I feel I ought to tell that your object will be periodically reminding you that it is still around with some simple spells. Good luck."  
  
The class got a first hand lesson on the value of surprise as the orbs cast various harmless but effective spells on their targets and began to zoom about the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione having much more death defying experiences than the rest of the class never took their eyes off their orbs even while beset by stomach cramps, severe itching and wracking coughs. Harry stood leaning on his desk for support as his cramps subsided. Neville on numbed legs crawled away from his desk towards the windows to gain a better vantage point. Ron had the same idea and stood up on his chair. Hermione moved to stand by Professor McGonagall's desk which overlooked the entire classroom. The rest of the class was still trying to recover from the spells cast on them.  
  
Those students who were able to do anything started casting their own spells. Harry's freezing spell grazed his target but due to his strong magic, the spell was very powerful and the orb froze in midair. He then transfigured it into a box. Hermione relying on triangulation cast four quick spells all around her target. Her target moved into one of the spells allowing Hermione to immediately change it into a box. Ron failed several attempts to hit his target directly. Instead he changed tactics and cast a series of spells that chased his target across the room. His orb collided with another orb. In the instance of collision, Ron cast his box spell. Neville waited patiently by the window observing the orbs in action. He realized that the orbs could only cast a spell when they were very close to their target. Keeping his wand hand at the ready and ignoring all the other objects whirling about. He cast his box spell when his orb got close enough.   
  
McGonagall nodded at the four smiling her approval at their success then motioned for the four to stand by the window and let the others have a go at their targets. For a few minutes they watched as chaos ruled the classroom. No one else hit their targets though many students were valiant and inventive. 

McGonagall pulled her wand out and cast a spell to have the balls attack her. The balls stopped in midair and streaked with some speed towards the headmistress. In a span of one minute, she picked off each orb or set of orbs in rapid succession with jaw dropping efficiency. The balls fell from the air floating to the ground as boxes big and small. One spell, one ball, one box.  
  
"Expect an exercise similar to this at least once a week. I will not be announcing it beforehand as I did just now. As homework tonight, I want each of you to practice three different transfigurations two on inanimate objects and one on a live subject like a mouse. You will be tested on your transfigurations in one week. Class dismissed."  
  
As the class filed out, they passed the headmaster who was standing by the doorway smiling at them in his indulgent way. He stopped Neville to ask "So, how did your box go?"  
  
"Fair, sir. The corners were only slightly curvy," Neville answered with a grin.  
  
"So, your tutoring is helping?" Albus rested his hand on the boys shoulder and gave Neville his full attention.  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape has me doing memory exercises and changing the way I concentrate." Neville locked his spine, crossed his arms and lowered his voice then said, "You must remove the extraneous and focus only on that very moment and nothing else." 

That got a chuckle out of Dumbledore and he let the boy go to join the rest of his class while he entered the lioness' den for a talk that both of them had been avoiding.  
  
The rest of Neville's class was walking on ahead talking excitedly at the new turn their transfiguration class had made. While the class knew it was a valuable and fascinating skill, its rigors and demands never made it a popular class despite being taught by their own head of house. But now with the new added element of action and fun, the class had captured their attention.  
  
"Hermione, please, I need tutoring on my spells," pleaded Finnigan. He wasn't the only one. Hermione was beset by requests and outright begging for homework help from Parvati, Lavender, Ron, Harry and Dean.  
  
Ron was muttering "Tactics. We need to brush up on tactics to corner those little buggers."  
  
"Ron's right. I don't think McGonagall is going to keep to the same as today. She's going to make it harder," said Harry and the others looked more desperate. "I can't wait myself. We don't have DADA this year and this is the next best thing."  
  
Hermione announced "All right. I'll help anyone who needs it but on one condition." The others held their breath. "Each of you has to join SPEW. I'll even waive the membership dues."  
  
"But, Hermione, SPEW ! I thought that you'd given up on that," Ron shrank from the patented Granger glare but Ron being Ron he rallied back quickly. "Well, Harry, Neville and I had to pay so should the others."  
  
The banter went back and forth. But by the time they reached their next class Charms, Hermione had a roster of new SPEW members and a homework schedule, which unbeknownst to the membership at large, was also the schedule for house elf medic practice. She looked at the list and was about to pencil in Neville then thought better of it. There was something going on with Neville. Harry and Ron had commented that Neville was hardly ever in the common room and did not hang out with them much any more pleading homework or letters to write to his grandmother. Hermione knew that Club activities were eating into her own time. But she did wonder what the Intelligence team was doing. 

Snape had requested and got Sybil's help on a few things but not hers. A small inner voice insisted strongly that she really didn't mind not knowing everything that was going on and that she did just want to help in any way she could. If Snape preferred Sybil's help, so be it. After all, she was already on loan to Arms and Armor and the medical team. She really didn't mind, no, not at all.

  


  
~ * ~

  


Professor Minerva McGonagall was a fair minded person blessed with an understanding heart but even she had her limits. The headmaster had exceeded those limits and well he knew it. Now as he closed the classroom door and cast a Circle of Anomi, he watched one of his oldest and closest friends faced him with anger and disappointment evident on her face.  
  
"Minerva, let me explain why I ." Dumbledore got no further than that. Her hand whipped out granting him the hard slap that he truly deserved.  
  
"You had no right to presume then force this ... this arrangement on me," Minerva raged. "I can feel Flavius all the time now. I can sense when he is nearby, when he is far away, when he wants me, needs me, when he is troubled. Last night, I think we even shared the same dream. It is intolerable!"  
  
Albus rubbed his stinging cheek. He had the grace to look alarmed. "That's not what the other partners have told me it's like. Severus never said ."  
  
"Severus wouldn't know, how could he? None of the other partners have had the history that Flavius and I have had." Minerva stood up to him. Her cool reserve laid in tatters about her.  
  
"I thought this would get you two together and settle your differences," Dumbledore protested.  
  
"No, that's not the real reason. Certainly not the first reason that came to mind. All these years, I've watched you advance your goals by manipulating people and circumstances. I was just a pawn to you in this as we all are in the grand plan. Go ahead and delude yourself with your misguided altruism," Minerva lashed out. "But you've changed into a cold man, Albus Dumbledore. Growing colder and harder every day! There will be nothing left of you after all this!"  
  
Dumbledore stood there letting her words and her rage wash over him. He couldn't deny her words. Not when they were the truth. There was only one thing he could do. "Minerva, please forgive me, please. I had to do it. I'm sorry. I am. God help me, I would do it again."  
  
"Why didn't you ask? Just asked me." Minerva's rage was spent and now she looked every one of her years. His heart cried out at seeing this. She cupped his face in her hands. "It isn't always about what you want, Albus. It's also about what's right to do. This wasn't right and it wasn't your decision to make."  
  
Dumbledore had no answer. Minerva embraced him then and his eyes misted. They stood like that for some time. Forgiveness would not be given but understanding did heal the rift between them.  


  


  
~ * ~

  


Walking down an unfamiliar corridor in the north tower that night, Neville Longbottom counted the pictures on the wall glancing down to read the instructions carefully. On the fifth picture, the stern figure asked him the password which was "Fear not that your life will someday end. Fear only that you do nothing with it." 

A door appeared and opened into a large subtly inviting room. To his left stood several armoires the contents of which he could only guess at. To his right was a counter with two strange machines and several tall stools tucked underneath the counter. The opposite wall was lined with expansive windows equipped with cozy window seats overlooking the dark forest.  
  
The far left wall was floor to ceiling shelves of what looked like thousands of ultra-miniaturized books. Close by a long desk and chairs stood ready to be used. On the right side of the room was an ornate fireplace. Solitary on the mantel, a crystal hourglass held court. The unusual sands - bright silver, blood red, emerald green, obsidian and azure blue - beckoned the eye. Above the mantel, framed in ebony was a large mirror whose surface had the patina and glaze that bespoke of great age. Standing in relief all around the frame were symbols of ancient magic. On opposite sides of the fireplace were two doors. A sofa and four plush leather armchairs arrayed around a low table facing the fireplace completed the room.  
  
By the counter stood Professor Vector reading what looked like instructions while fiddling around with a machine. "Good evening, Mr. Longbottom. Have a cup of ambrosia," Vector said handing Neville a filled mug on his way to an armchair. The other machine was itself hissing and percolating ominously. "Cappucino, Neville, wonderful invention. I can't live without it. Severus prefers espresso though." 

Following Vector's example, Neville sniffed and took a cautious sip. Though scalding he found the smooth, frothy taste appealing. Professor Snape came in from one of the side rooms holding a mug himself. He settled his lanky frame into a chair sighing as if at peace for the first time all day. In this way was begun a late evening ritual that in later years would be remembered fondly and well as oasis of calm and cameraderie.  
  
Snape began the meeting. "You both know why I picked you. What others think, believe or say is of no consequence and no effect. Consider this room our official meeting room as well as team office. You may stake out a part of the room to use as your own. In fact, I encourage it. In this room, feel free to address each other by our given names. The library and many of the other objects in this room are family heirlooms and are at your disposal. The armoires contain clothing, charmed objects and other equipment that you may find as useful as I have. This room as well as the other side rooms are warded to allow muggle devices to function as intended. A Circle of Anomi is built into the rooms' wards. These rooms may also used by the other club members but you must accompany them at all times. The library and the armoires are keyed only to the three of us."  
  
"This team will not tolerate any secrets or agendas that would interfere with our tasks and hinder our progress. I have learned to value true honesty. This is not honesty of the word as that does not exist. This is honesty of the soul a reflection of your character and steadfastness. Intelligence work as life is never a singular path littered with forthright answers nor marked by clear choices. But an honest soul will seek the right answers for the right reasons. You may not always choose the straightest or most correct direction but you will never lose sight of what answers you seek nor why you seek it."  
  
"There are those rare individuals who never lose their sight nor their way. Others who take various paths but remain true to themselves. Then there are those who mistake their honesty for righteousness, wilfully lose all sense of direction by any moral compass and by virtue of circumstance and consequence are humbled to realize their error. I count myself in this latter category. Tonight, I am attendng a meeting. A meeting that had I never lost my way would probably never need to happen. I am going because of this."  
  
Snape held his left arm out and pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark dominated his forearm. Its insidious snake's head looked poised to strike as alive and vital as the first time he had heeded its signal thereby making a lie of his reason, his honor and his future. "Somehow, I remembered my way back but the cost was ... is great. I can never fully be released from the service of this mark but I have learned to use it for the right reasons. I will most likely never find my answers and my future paths are limited by my past. But I received the grace of a second chance and for that -. For that, I can at least help those who forgave me. I turned spy many years ago and will continue until I am no longer needed or able."  
  
"I've often wondered how Dumbledore knew so much of Voldemort's activities, now I see," Vector said without censure or judgment. Snape forced himself to look at Neville.  
  
Neville sat still as a statue. While listening to Snape, he had stared hard at then traced around the snake's head as if accepting its undeniable reality. When he looked up, it was not with the eyes of a trusting adolescent. Looking at the boy, Snape was reminded of how he himself had felt when he first came to confess to Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore and Neville's father, Frank, Neville would never have lost his way.  
  
"I need to know," Neville took a strong hold on Snape's outstretched arm and looked at the potions master directly. "Were you there when they cornered and tortured my parents?"  
  
Snape found himself unable to speak. His words when they came were said in a trembling whisper "No, Neville. I was not there. "  
  
"Did you know that they were being targeted?"  
  
"No. If I had, I would have ... have ... done something ... anything."  
  
"Who killed them?"  
  
"I don't know. No one ever admitted to it." Neville's rational almost cold interrogation helped Snape regain his composure.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"The Daily Prophet the following day."  
  
"Are you mentoring me because you feel responsible?"  
  
"No." Snape admitted. "I am mentoring you for my own reasons. It's something else that I can do to help."  
  
"I have something else you can do," Neville let go of Snape's arm. When he looked back at Snape it was with the eyes of someone decades older and wiser. "Help me find the ones who tortured my parents."  
  
"So that you can go avenge yourself on them? I won't allow that. If that means - "  
  
"I need to know ... just know," Neville explained. His posture was set and his gaze brooked no argument. "I want them to see what my parents are like now. I want them to see what they've done. And I have every right to ask you to do this."  
  
Snape sat in his chair stiff and straight like a prisoner waiting for sentence. "By blood and birth, you have the right to demand much of me. I will help you find whoever they are but I won't let you get blood on your hands, understood? What else do you want?"  
  
"Teach me to survive as you have," Neville sat placidly in his chair knowing that Snape could not refuse. "Don't shield me from anything. I need you to show me the wrong choices." 

Snape stretched his arm and the two shook hands. Snape searched for any sign from Neville of anger and pain but found none. The firm handshake and grip made him realize that he had a very determined young man on his hands. Dumbledore had given him his second chance. A chance he was using to repair the present. But,Neville was his third chance. This time he was going to use it to for the future's sake.  
  
"I have a feeling you're going to do just fine, Neville. Call me Calvin." Vector replied. He had gained more insight into his teammates in the last few minutes than he would have gleaned in a year. He realized that for Snape every day was a chance and a gift and that was why he drove himself and those around him as hard as he did. As for Neville, Snape had made a good choice after all. "This meeting tonight, Severus, what is it about and what can we do to help?"  
  
Snape proceeded to tell them about Voldemort's plans in great detail. As he did so, he felt himself willingly unburdening more and more. He revealed his role in the creation of the Dark Mark. He told them about demon summoning, Demos and the volunteers.  
  
Snape closed his eyes and slowly Demos emerged. Vector looked intrigued and Neville incredulous. "Demos, this is Professor Vector and Neville Longbottom." Demos looked at the two and said "A pleasure to meet Severus' help mates." Neville reached out and tried to touch Demos. Demos complied by turning more solid.  
  
"Vector, please show Neville your companion," Snape instructed. He watched as Demos demonstrated his transitions to Neville. 

Vector's companion shot out of him and flitted about the room eventually hovering near Demos.

"As you can see, Neville, Demos is very different than a companion. As with my mark, only the heads of house and yourselves know the full story about Demos. He and I are completely separate entities. I do not know what he does nor what he is thinking all the time and he certainly does not know what I do or what I think. We share some common traits and aptitudes. Demos has more active participation in our plans than the companions. He has taken many of the duties that I used to find tedious but necessary."  
  
Neville had gotten over his incredulity at all that had transpired this evening and was making a second cup of cappucino. "What kinds of duties, Professor? He doesn't teach class does he?"  
  
"No, not quite. He does most if not all of my night patrols of the castle. His ability to phase through walls certainly comes in handy. Most students know my voice and that is usually enough to send them scurrying," Snape said with some pride. "Besides my patrols, he also assists Filch and the Baron in their work and Dumbledore borrows him occasionally. And Demos harvests my potions supplies in the Forest."  
  
"Calvin, does your companion have a name like Demos does?" Neville asked.  
  
"It picked its own name, actually." Ventured Vector. "Seems to be a popular name among the muggles especially where I go to raise funds."  
  
"Yes, Calvin, where do you disappear off to, anyway?" Snape asked now fully relaxed and mellow.  
  
"A wondrous place. It's called Las Vegas. It's in the States." Vector explained.  
  
"What do you do in Las ... Las Ve-gas?" asked Neville pronouncing the word carefully.  
  
Vector's normally neutral face came to life as he launched into a description of how he applied mathematical principles in the many different and magnificent financial establishements in the city. Being a wizard had advantages, of course, and with his math skills, he often went overboard and raised funds past the establishment's limits. "But the muggles are very nice about it, really. They just put me into a room to cool off. They even call it the cooler. Then I signal for pick up and wait until Sinistra shows up via the new transport network. I'm exploring other places ideal for fundraising just for variety."  
  
Vector then explained the origin of his companion's name. "In Las Vegas, there are muggles who entertain and dance about. You see them everywhere being helpful and they sing very well, too. My companion named itself after them because it sees itself as my helper. If you need help, call Elvis."  
  
Demos pointed out the window in the direction of the forest where flashes of light could be seen the night.  
  
"It's Professor McGonagall's team practice, Demos. I passed them going out an hour ago. She and some of the other female staff members are forming groups to practice group attacks and dueling. One team led by her and the other by Hooch. After practicing and training, they plan to have a mock battle in a few weeks. I actually feel sorry for Hooch." Snape commented.  
  
"Why? Hooch is incredibly quick not to mention younger," asked Vector.  
  
"Minerva is experienced enough to know how to lure her enemies in. She's also one of the fastest spell casters I've ever seen. Hooch will be so busy dodging rapid fire spells and curses that she won't manage to get the offense going. I'll take a smart, determined woman over one who relies solely on physical abilities and charms any day." Snape informed Vector. "Besides, Minerva has a lot of, shall we say, supressed energy, to spend. She won't hesitate to be vicious."  
  
"Aren't we going to get some practice in as well?" Neville inquired.  
  
"As a matter of fact, we are going to form groups and have our own mock battle. Then the winning captains will form two new teams of the best performers of the mock battles, male vs female, in a simulated war game. Those who are not on the field are going to be support personnel doing everything from dirty tricks campaigns to sabotage to supply. Albus will serve as judge."  
  
"So who are the men's captains, Severus?" Vector asked.  
  
"As it happens, Flitwick and myself are designated captains. As such, my Intelligence team is automatically on my battle team. Personally, I'm looking forward to meeting Minerva on the field."  
  
Neville pointed out. "I'd hate to face Hermione. Hermione can be mean."  
  
"Ms Granger?" said Snape disbelieving.  
  
"Oh, yes. None of us Gryffindors cross her seriously. Not even Harry and especially not Ron." Neville confided. "One look is all it takes."  
  
"Ms Granger does not strike me as being physically aggressive, verbally, yes, but not physically assertive," Snape said.  
  
"Well, not usually. The thing with her is if you cross her, she won't forget or forgive easily," Neville explained. "And she's so smart that whatever it is, you know her revenge is going to be gruesome."  
  
"Indeed. I should then consider myself a marked man, then, considering how I treat your class and all Gryffindors," Snape observed.  
  
"I can see what Neville means. Her dead stubborn bloodymindedness has been amply demonstrated in my classes when a problem eludes her. It's always the quiet, ones you have to watch out for," said Vector.  
  
"Sybil can be a handful, too," said Snape earning a curious look and an arched brow from Vector which was studiously ignored. "Don't underestimate her."

  


~ * ~

  


In the dark forest, the ladies in question were scrambling about heedless of dirty faces, mud-stained shoes, torn robes or protesting muscles. McGonagall, Trelawney and Granger were focused on the three rules of Spell Tag - hit often, keep moving and keep the questions for later. The point was to survive until the odds were better or in your favor entirely. They had started in a triangle configuration and that quickly devolved into a guerilla, catch-me-if-you-can-before-I-get-to-you scenario.  
  
Surprisingly, Minerva was the least tired of the three. She had suggested this exercise as a way to let off some tension while waiting for Snape's meeting. She bided her time standing behind an expansive oak tree listening and watching as the younger two hunted each other. And hunting it was with Sybil and Hermione taking turns being the hunted and the prey each trying to get the better of the other. The two were evenly matched. Sybil had been a very good player in her youth but she was out of practice. Hermione, though a newcomer, was a quick learner and there was nothing wrong with her innate survival instincts.  
  
Sybil was using her companion to keep tabs on Minerva's whereabouts. She knew she would have a difficult time with her mentor so she wanted to even the odds by getting rid of Hermione first. Unfortunately, that was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. Hermione was using her size and quickness to hide very effectively. Sybil herself had been taken completely by surprise once. Hermione suddenly appeared only a few meters away and shot three quick spells at her. Surprised, Sybil had barely enough time to block the younger woman's spells and answer back with her own. She now respected this particular student more for her cunning than her scholarly aptitude.  
  
She had to end this soon before her stamina gave out. _The girl is too quick by half._ Sibyl transfigured a few leaves into coughing bombs and let them loose in a circle pattern over the clearing where she suspected Hermione was hiding. Then she created a few light cracking bombs to explode in time with the coughing bombs. Preparing herself with a few spells, she activated the bombs. 

Hermione was overcome by the fumes. She ran out of the clearing into bright light exposed and straight into Sybil's sights. Hermione saw the spells coming but kept moving forward blocking spells or avoiding them by swerving, crawling and ducking but never stopping. 

Minerva watched her two proteges deep in concentration. One launching spell after spell with hardly a pause while the other dexterously avoided the spell she could and blocked the ones she couldn't. Finally, both females stood facing each other half in shadow and half in blinding light. Both said "Expelliarmus!" Their spells hit successfully and both were thrown off their feet. As the two hit the ground, Minerva cast her own spell over the two "Petrificus Totalis!"  
  
She walked out from behind her oak and clapped her hands. "Excellently done, ladies. I believe I win this round though. Lesson one never obsess on one target to the detriment of your own position." She ended the spell and her proteges joined her rubbing aching joints and other pains.  
  
"When do we do this again?" Hermione looked fresh and alert. The adrenalin was high and she felt like she could go a few more rounds.  
  
"I definitely need the practice," Sibyl said. While not as energetic as Hermione, Sibyl was too keyed up herself to rest anytime soon.  
  
"How about once a week?" Minerva suggested and the other two agreed. As they walked back to the castle, she was reminded of a task that needed completing. "Hermione, I need you to do something."  
  
"Of course, what is it?" Hermione asked.  
  
"There is to be a trustees meeting next week. Normally, I or another head of house helps Albus draft a brief describing our activities for the term. With everything going on, I'm afraid no one has even started on the draft. Can you go to the various staff members and interview them briefly on their curriculums?"  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
"Thank you. And when you're done, please pass the draft to Professor Snape for review."  
  
"Professor Snape? The draft will end up dripping in sarcasm!"  
  
"The brief has to be worded just so for the trustees' consumption. Severus has a demonstrated flare for knowing how to say very little in a lot of seemingly meaningful paragraphs." Minerva added.

"You will find that Severus' sarcasm when properly packaged can disarm the most hostile of audiences without them even knowing it." Sybil added.  
  
Hermione laughed at this. "He's certainly wordy but you can't help hanging on to his every word."  
  
"Exactly! His wit and sarcasm soars when he knows there's a captive audience. If the man is not vain about his appearance, he is most certainly vain about others paying him due attention on his terms." 

The ladies laughter echoed into the night.

  


~ * ~

  


Back in his rooms, Snape prepared for his meeting. In his sitting area were two large jugs filled with the paste that would allow the re-branding of the old dark marks. He was waiting for Flitwick and Filch. Tonight, for the first time, he would take Demos with him at Albus' direct order. Snape got the distinct impression that Dumbledore had separate orders for Demos that he knew nothing about. Flitwick and Filch would trail him to the meeting site in animal forms. If things went horribly wrong, Flitwick and Filch had direct orders to make their presence known and drag Snape back to Hogwarts preferably alive. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Vector, Sinistra and Ollivander would be waiting outside of Hogwarts' gates ready to apparate to the meeting site if more help was needed. Sprout, Trelawney, Pomfrey, Hooch, Hagrid and Pince were on alert in case the Death Eaters retaliated and followed the team back to Hogwarts. Granger and Longbottom were staying up and on call in their common room that night.  
  
Snape buttoned on his robes eschewing some of the protective clothing he normally wore to these meetings. He would have to be able to move quickly tonight. He inserted a spare wand in his boot and shrank another wand which he hid in an inner pocket. He checked his belt buckle a transfigured port key courtesy of Minerva that would transport him instantly back to Hogwarts if needed. His buttons looked all right. Only he knew that each one had properties that would either get him out of trouble or make sure that trouble didn't reach him. Lastly, he drank several draughts of strong, time released healing elixir. It usually alleviated the effects of Cruciatus enough to keep him lucid. 

Either everything went right or everything went wrong, he mused, no different than any other meeting. He could feel the buildup of manic anticipatory energy. But this time, the stakes were infinitely higher and that sobered him. No mistakes tonight, not even a slip. He must not make any mistakes.  



	11. Ascendant Ambitions

**  


Chapter 11

  
  


Ascendant Ambitions

  
**

The scratch of quill to parchment. The click of boots pacing the floor. The soft sliding whish of pages being turned. These were the only sounds heard in the room from three most unlike men. One would be hard pressed to find more unlikely cohorts in intrigue. Filius Flitwick leisurely read his book too experienced to worry overmuch until there was just cause to do so. Argus Filch paced the floor mentally rehearsing all the spells he had practiced during every spare minute he'd had the last few weeks. Severus Snape, well, he did not pace nor read. He graded papers and updated his lesson plans for Eve Delacour's use. She had turned out to be a very good teacher. There was marked improvement on test scores and potion practicals from the lower classes. He finished her evaluation and signed his name with a flourish. As he finished his signature, his mark began to burn. His breath came out in a prolonged hiss. _Voldemort must be really anxious for the pain to be so sharp_. He could feel the burning almost to his shoulder blades.  
  
Flitwick and Filch saw his reaction. Filch rang a small brass bell sitting on top of the mantel. This bell's compatriots in all the teacher and staff quarters also rang. By prearrangement, all who heard the ringing knew that the summons had come. Those who were slated for gate duty would meet in the front hall and start for the gates. The others would gather in the Great Hall. Flitwick checked the extra wand in his shoulder holster and motioned Filch to come be transformed. 

Flitwick transformed himself and Filch into moths. They flew into a small crystal flask. Snape then stoppered the flask with a cork that had a hole in the middle large enough to escape out of if needed but small enough to keep the contents from accidentally slipping out while in transit. In this way, carried on Snape's person but separate from his body, Filch and Flitwick would be able to apparate with Snape in complete safety and anonymity.  
  
Snape put on his heavy Death Eater robes, shrunk the mask to fit in his pocket and levitated the jugs of paste. He left his quarters heading for the gates as a fast clip. Perspiration beaded down his forehead as he half ran and half trotted to the gates. The mark wasn't burning anymore. Instead it ached dully making his arm feel ten times heavier than normal. This heaviness concerned him. _It's never felt heavy before. Something's wrong. _ He stopped and breathed deeply relaxing his body settling his mind to calm and focus only on the present. _Don't panic now. I'll have Poppy do a check later. It's probably nothing._ Snape strode through the gates of Hogwarts pulling his hood over his features before apparating. A group of his colleagues were not far behind him. They settled by the gates for what they hoped would be a short vigil.

  


~ * ~

  


Snape appeared in a field of hay lying fallow. Nearby he could see the outline of a small farmhouse. He looked around uneasily. He saw no one else. He was alone. In the midst of adjusting his robes and putting his mask on, he unstoppered the vial. Hearing the whisper soft fluttering of wings, he knew Flitwick and Filch had made it through intact. He opened one side of his robe to allow the moths to find hiding places within. To his left, he could hear someone noisily making their way to him. With some relief, Snape recognized Peter Pettigrew's distinctive wheezing.  
  
"Snape, our lord instructed me to come get you," Pettigrew said. "Follow me."  
  
"Where is this place?" Snape asked. "Looks quite peaceful."  
  
"Very. We're in Dorset. The nearest town is Axebridge,"  
  
"Ah, one of these days I should plan a visit to Glastonbury. The views from Mendip Hills is supposed to be breathtaking." Snape commented trying to give Filch and Flitwick as much offhand information as possible. "Has the gathering been cancelled? I don't see anyone."  
  
"No, the others will be coming later. Our lord wanted to speak with you before the ceremony." Wormtail explained. "Tonight will be memorable."  
  
"Indeed," Snape subdued his innate paranoia. He breathed deeply relaxing himself as much as possible freezing his face to a mask of watchful calm.  
  
They had come to the door of the farmhouse and Wormtail gestured him in. The room was dimly lit by tall torches on each point of the pentagram. The air reeked of sulphur, fresh blood and smoke. As Snape came in, he saw that Voldemort stood in the middle of the pentagram dressed in sumptuous crimson and silver robes. Lucius stood close by the work table. He gave Snape a quick once over then returned his attention to Voldemort. 

Snape felt Nagini circle him ocassionally touching him with its tail while its forked tongue darted out sniffing making sure of his identity. Satisfied, Nagini seemed to nod at Voldemort before retreating to its sleep nest by the fireplace. Snape put his jars down on the floor in front of him.  
  
"Good evening, Severus," This was accompanied by a grotesque facsimile of a smile on the dark lord's face. "There are matters that I need to discuss with you before our gathering."  
  
Snape stepped closer just to the edge of the pentagram fighting the urge to flee. As Snape had predicted, Demos was reacting to the heavy aura of the occult in the room, especially the pentagram. Snape ruthlessly barred Demos from leaving his body explaining that Demos had to resist or they would be found out. Outwardly calm, Snape said, "Yes, of course. What matters do you wish to discuss?"

  


~ * ~

  


For the first time in a very long time the doors of the Great Hall were locked from the inside. The Hall was ablaze with light. The house tables were not present. Ghosts flitted in and out taking and receiving instructions. The enchanted ceiling did not show the night sky. Instead it showed the scene just outside of Hogwarts gates. Hagrid paced from one end of the hall to the other and back again. Pince was experimenting with enchanting a crossbow. Trelawney, in the meantime, was intently studying Pince's notes on the new transport system. Pomfrey and Sprout sipped coffee while conversing quietly.  
  
"I just don't understand it, Cera. I've probably tested a liter of Severus' blood and I haven't misread the results. His blood has changed ... is still changing in fact." Pomfrey said with obvious frustration.  
  
"Side effects from the demon summonings?" asked Sprout.  
  
"No, can't be. I first noticed the change happening late last year before he ever started his summonings. I suspect that the blood change is the reason for his increased lethargy. I know he's taking more Pepper Up potion to combat it. As it is, I give him weekly booster spells for his immune system."  
  
"Prolonged use of Pepper Up has some serious side effects like hypertension and nervousness," Sprout mentioned. "Didn't you say that he had another attack a few nights ago?"  
  
"The worse one so far. I've pleaded with him to stop taking the potion. Albus has even given Demos strict orders to watch Severus' vital signs at all times." Pomfrey shook her head. "One of these days, his heart is just going to stop and there won't be anyone around to help. If the hypertension wasn't bad enough, his stigmatas seem to react to the Pepper Up. They're now appearing on his back, his chest, his arms."  
  
"I thought his stigmatas would be easing now that he wasn't summoning so much,"   
  
"They should be. All the reference materials say so. But his appears on and off like benign melanoma tumors especially on his arms. Severus tells me they're not painful just aesthetically unpleasing. When he has an attack caused by over dosage of the Pepper Up, the lesions and boils expand and secrete acid. There must be something we've missed."  
  
Sprout was lost in thought but phrases kept echoing through her mind "... on his arms.", "It's biological." " - grafted skin." ,"... his arms." Sprout suddenly knew with absolute horror what was wrong with Snape. Rejection in human beings was often a side effect masking what was really happening. Too busy treating the symptoms that one overlooks the real cause. Biology and nature will always win out. "Poppy, meet me in the infirmary. I need to get something from the Room of Counsel ! Hagrid! Open those doors, now!"

  


~ * ~

  


Snape found himself in the unenviable position of being hedged in with Voldemort and Lucius in front and Wormtail behind. Actually, he was more worried about Wormtail than the other two. Due to his cowardliness, Wormtail preferred to stab people in the back. _Demos, keep an eye on Wormtail. Should he ever try anything and my back is turned. Take over. _

He saw a moth weave in and out of the books lying atop the worktable hovering just behind Malfoy. The other moth was nowhere to be seen. Snape faced Voldemort and waited.  
  
"I would like to go over the ceremony as each of you will play a part," said Voldemort. "Severus was tasked with finding a way to revivify the old mark to make it a symbol worthy of my second ascension. Let us now see what he has made."  
  
"I will need a volunteer," Snape lifted the jars and put both on top of the worktable. He shook one gently before opening the stopper. He took a small brush out of one of the pockets of his robes.  
  
"Do Lucius first," Voldemort commanded.  
  
"I think the maker should be the first test subject," Lucius said.  
  
"I agree, however, at this time I cannot be the test subject." Snape was consciously keeping his responses to the fewest most ambiguous words possible. _Less chance of my truthful tongue being led astray by errant thoughts_.  
  
Lucius did not miss the quick look exchanged by Snape and Voldemort. "Why not?"  
  
"Mine is different. It cannot be rebranded or changed or removed," said Snape.  
  
"How convenient and - " 

Voldemort interrupted him with, "Enough prattling, Lucius. Submit yourself and watch carefully." 

Lucius pulled up his robe sleeve watching intently as Snape brushed a thin even coating over the faded black mark. Remembering the pain of his first branding, Lucius' entire body tensed.

Snape pulled out his wand and intoned, "Mutatio Alius Advoco."

Right after he said the spell, Snape chanced a look at Voldemort. He saw Voldemort's head snap back and they locked eyes. There was something new in Voldemort's gaze a combination of glee and surprise. The paste began to glow and heat. Instead of the expected pain, Lucius felt a pleasant warmth accompanied by some tingling. Before his eyes, the paste dissolved revealing a fresh, darker mark.  
  
Snape took his time inspecting the new mark. "There. That will no longer burn when summoned, at least initially. It will glow instead. However, if the summons is not obeyed within six hours the it will burn much more painfully than before. It will not stop burning even after one obeys the summons until our lord deactivates the burning. There is an unfortunate side effect that I must inform you of. I had to use a base of eucalyptus oil and aloe. I'm afraid that you will always smell very slightly of eucalyptus menthol. However, you should be able to disguise that with cologne."  
  
Voldemort advanced within the Pentagram standing very close to Lucius. Like Lucius, he bent down and examined the mark carefully running a finger around the snake's head. A trail of color followed his finger and Voldemort looked approvingly at Snape. Voldemort breathed in deeply and some color came to his pallid face. He nodded at Snape and said "Very good, Severus. I see that it truly builds upon my first original creation. It is everything I wanted."  
  
"It will do all that you specified," Snape answered the unspoken question earnestly. By Voldemort's careful wording, he got the impression that no one but themselves would be privy to the other abilities of the new mark. In truth, it would do all that Voldemort had wanted it to do. However, it would also have the time-released itch clause as defined by Professor Sprout. Since that was not in Voldemort's original requirements. Snape was not obligated to tell Voldemort anything else unless asked very specifically about every feature of the potion As for the menthol, Sprout had cackled that it was a built in homing device which the Defense team would happily exploit. Snape had no doubt that Sprout would get creative with it.  
  
Snape peered closely at Lucius to see if he was experiencing any difficulty. Lucius was flexing his arm and admiring the way his new mark reflected the torch light. Snape strongly suspected that Voldemort was even now slowly leeching some energy from Lucius without Lucius being aware of it. Voldemort was walking further and further away from Lucius and his fist was continually opening and closing. Voldemort seemed to have lost his habitual stoop and now stood straight. His stride was no longer the shuffling gait of an invalid but the sure even tread of a healthy man. 

Satisfied with Snape's handiwork, Voldemort ordered that Wormtail be next. Voldemort transformed Pettigrew's silver arm back to normal while Snape repeated the procedure. Afterwards, the silver arm was returned resting on top of a new Dark Mark. During this second procedure, Voldemort sat in his chair still and observant. His breathing, Snape noticed, had started to sound less raspy as if more air was filling his lungs now.  
  
Wormtail suddenly crumpled to the ground. Snape was immmediately by his side. "I'm sorry, my lord," Wormtail snivelled. "Must be all the excitement. I felt lightheaded for a minute there."  
  
"That's quite all right, Wormtail." Said Voldemort his breathing becoming raspy again. "Rest now. I would not want you to miss any of the festivities. Severus, can either Lucius and Wormtail apply the salve on their own?"  
  
"Yes, I made it to be portable and can be applied by anyone who has your direct permission to create a new mark or change an old one. The same spell Mutatio Alius Advoco is used in both instances." Snape answered helpfully. "To ease the burning simply utter Annulo Carbonis."  
  
"Very, very good. Lucius, Wormtail, I now designate you as my two deputies. In my name, you may apply the salve to the rest of the Death Eaters tonight and you shall have the power to ease the burning. However, only I will be applying new marks from now on." The new deputies bowed low and stood straight coveting in their heart of hearts this new honor. "I am summoning the others now. Please go outside inform them of what they need to know about the new mark and make them ready." 

Lucius followed Wormtail out but not before giving a backward glance full of suspicion at the tableau he was leaving behind - Snape sitting on the work table stool arms crossed posture relaxed conversing with Voldemort in tones too low to be discernible. There was something else going on and Snape was right in the middle of it. There were far too many unanswered questions where Snape was concerned - far too many for his liking.

  


~ * ~

  


The liquid in the test tube changed from deep red to a sparkling sky blue. Blue meant a positive result. This was the third time that Sprout did the test wishing every time for a red but getting blue every time. "Well, Poppy how's your test doing?"  
  
Poppy Pomfrey bent over two large pieces of parchment each one as big as a tabletop scrutinizing each one. There were quills dancing over each parchment dropping different color ink - red, blue, green, orange - as they went along up and down and left and right. The quills had been doing this for well over a half hour now.and a discernible image was appearing on both parchments. To a trained eye it bore a distinct similarity to a twisted helix with various color sequences appearing the rungs of the helix. The untrained eye would only see that there were identical patterns repeating over and over on each parchment.  
  
"It is corroborating your results, Cera." Said Pomfrey. "Even now, the patterns and sequences are near identical. We need to tell Albus."  
  
"Immediately. We can't chance Voldemort finding out by accident. One touch will be all it takes. It will practically scream at him." Sprout summoned the Friar and instructed him to get Dumbledore.

  


~ * ~

  


As the others left, Voldemort clapped his hands and the first twisted but genuine smile lit his face. Snape was reminded of a little boy presented with a much longed for surprise gift. "Severus, this is beyond my expectations. I felt the energy as soon as the Dark Mark was changed. With the slightest of effort I was able to link to Lucius and Wormtail. You have given me what hundreds of books and incantations could not - the chance to improve upon this physical form. How many followers do you expect I will need to fully transform this husk I am imprisoned in?"  
  
Snape rubbed his chin. "I thought that the original ceremony using Tom Riddle's body would have given you a fully robust body. It did not?"  
  
"No, that accursed runt's interference so soon after the ritual left me with what I have - a body that gave me form but it is sickly, barely sustaining me. I have bursts of energy but again nothing sustainable. However, tonight, I bled off some energy from Lucius. As you saw, as little as was that draw, I could feel my physical body responding and getting better."  
  
"Well, to sustain and eventually permanently change your body to full health, which I assume is the goal, you would need a steady and strong draw of energy for a period of time that I cannot calculate at this time," said Snape. "I should also inform you that I did not have time to investigate the effects of distance on the drawing of energy."  
  
"That is all right, Severus, I will run some tests on my own. Purebloods, a stock of purebloods, is what I need. Wormtail could not take my draw for very long, weak blooded mongrel that he is," commented Voldemort. "He has some muggle blood from some long ago ancestor. No, I need the purest and oldest bloodlines. They would have the most power and strenght. Much like your own bloodlines, Severus. Your family is apparently even older than Lucius'. Lucius has been telling me of his recent research. It is unfortunate I cannot draw from you."  
  
"Most unfortunate," murmured Snape. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a moth perched on the seatback of Voldemort's chair. _Gutsy moth, whoever it was_. "What research is Lucius doing? Perhaps, my help would prove valuable."  
  
"No, I would not waste your time and talents with it. It is trivial by comparison to your own tasks. Lucius was investigating some old archives at the Ministry. He found references to an ancestor of yours, a Benedictine monk, Seldahl Snape, who was also a Hogwarts teacher and Head of Slyherin house just before the advent of the muggle Renaissance period. I did not realize you were following in a family tradition."  
  
"It seems the disposition to teaching and a solitary existence are hereditary, then," Snape postured. He made a note to find a way to actually recheck the Ministry archives. He would need to elicit the Ollivanders for help in some judicious editing. _How did Seldahl find his way into history and what was written down as his accomplishments?_ According to the hidden histories, Seldahl was the first to fully expand the Hogwarts dungeons and permanently hide the Founders chambers and the Room of Counsel. All his activities were supposedly expunged by the next generation. Perhaps, a trip to the family home and a long chat with his parents was in the offing. He made a note to eat more before his visit. His mother always said that he was too thin and threatened to hold him hostage until he had filled out a bit. Suddenly, an image of a cream and silver envelope came to mind. He'd forgotten to respond to his mother's latest letter. He calculated the time. Less than two weeks had come to pass so he could reasonably plead overwork for not responding sooner. He would send off a response tomorrow. His thoughts returned to what Voldemort was saying.  
  
" - but the plans are almost complete. By midsummer, our first offensive will be apparent. But first, we will need to fill the ranks. Will there be a class available for tapping, Severus?"  
  
"The latest seventh years have very few strong purebloods. Certainly none are physically mature to be of any use to you as a renewable energy source. I believe that you would be better served by fully grown adults over the age of twenty-two. At that age and maturity, their bodies can better regenerate the lost energy during a sleep cycle."  
  
"Yes, that is sense. As always you are the voice of practicality. There are enough adult Death Eaters to fill my needs for now. I will wait and see how my body responds." Voldemor rose and began to pace. "However, I already have a ready supply of the strongest of pure bloods. Why didn't I think of it before?"  
  
Keeping his alarm at bay, Snape ventured out, "What did you not think about before?"  
  
"My most dedicated Death Eaters, Severus, who also are the purest of the pure," Voldemort pinned him back with cold calculating eyes. "The Lestranges would be ideal. And, Malfoy's wife is descended from the Rosier line, is she not? She will also be ideal and quite accessible."  
  
"The Lestranges are in Azkaban, definitely not accessible," Snape sounded casual and offhand. _And my testimony put them there_.  
  
"For now, yes, but I will need them very soon. Malfoy's wife has resisted fully joining us but I know that Lucius will be very persuasive. As for Askaban, it is not as impregnable as the Ministry and the rest of the wizarding world believes it to be. But, do not worry yourself over minor details, Severus. I have another task for you."  
  
"I live to serve you," Snape sat up straighter and made a small bow.  
  
"There is an ancient spell that I have found. It is called the Valde Commendus or great commitment," Voldemort stopped pacing and stood facing Snape. "I am sure that you know of it."  
  
"Something of it. It enhances a person's commitment to any cause or person that the individual deems as worthy of that loyalty. It requires a great deal of power and skill to cast and its effect is transistory, depending wholly on the individual's strenght of will and faith. Once that faith is gone or doubted, even once, the spell loses its hold."  
  
"Yes, a very powerful spell for while the person is under this spell, nothing not even death will alter his loyalty," Voldemort continued. "I want you to research this further. I want you to create a new spell that would make the spell permanent and irrevocable despite the person's will and faith. I believe the Valde Commendus will fit in very well with Imperius, Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra. I will need it before midsummer."  
  
"I am already working on the demon summoning elements of Consula Econtra," Snape said. "That alone -"  
  
"I had originally thought to gain the energy I need from an enslaved demon. But this new mark already fulfills my immediate needs. Given time and enough Death Eaters I will have regenerated my body completely. I can afford to be patient," said Voldemort. "I need this new Unforgivable more. I charge you with creating it within the next seven months." 

Snape was speechless and could only bow in acquiescence of this new charge. Wormtail ducked his head in to say that all was present and all was ready. Snape walked out holding the door open for Voldemort and Nagini. He left the door slightly ajar so the moths could escape undetected. The crowd was shrouded in an air of solemnity as they stood unmoving while their leader ascended the raised dais to address them.  
  
"My followers, welcome! Remember this night all of you. This night marks my true ascension to absolute supremacy and your elevation, each of you, to stand by my side. After tonight, we will be one step closer to that ideal held most dear by my ancestor Salazar Slytherin - that only the fittest, strongest and most adept survive. We will remake our world, you and I, strenghening our strenghts and eliminating our weaknesses. The very weaknesses that make their insidious way into our society, our lives and our blood. I see before me those strenghts of heart, mind and faith which will overcome those who challenge our position and our resolve. " Voldemort's voice rang firm and true in the cold night air. "Tonight, you all will reaffirm your commitment to our cause. Tonight, we become one clan, one arm, one voice and we will be the stronger for it, that I promise you. My deputies will go among you to help you in your reaffirmation. Everyone, be patient until all have undergone the ritual."  
  
Voldemort signalled for Lucius and Wormtail, carrying one jug each, to being applying the new mark to each and every Death Eater. Voldemort sat back heavily in his chair on the dais. The short speech had drained him. Snape watched him carefully as each new mark was applied. Voldemort had his eyes closed tightly but a hint of a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. Snape knew that Voldemort was testing each Death Eater as their brands were changed identifying those that could serve as long term energy sources like a vampire identifying unsuspecting potential victims. Snape stood by himself to the left of the dais watching if anyone needed his assistance. The moths had secreted themselves inside his robes once again. After thirty minutes all the new marks were applied.  
  
Voldemort practically sprang out of his chair as the last Death Eater finished the ritual. "The clan is now complete. I know that many of you have made sacrifices to be here tonight. I assure you that your sacrifices will be rewarded tenfold. Now go back to your homes or stay and partake of some of the planned entertainment. Know that your dedication will not be forgotten." 

Wormtail and Lucius made their way to the dais and sat on either side of their dark lord with Nagini curled up at Voldemort's feet. Snape stayed for an obligatory fifteen minutes enough to see the first act of entertainment - dancing veelas. He then made his excuses to Voldemort.  
  
"You deserve more credit than I have given you this night, Severus," Voldemort said.  
  
"I live to serve, you know that I need no praise, false or otherwise," That statement got a sharp look from Malfoy.  
  
"Such compliments would mean nothing to you. One day I will find a reward suitably great and magnificent for you. Your service ise an example to all."  
  
Malfoy interrupted Voldemort's effusive praise. "Severus, I still would like to know why you did not need branding. How is yours different from ours?"  
  
"Very well, if nothing else will satisfy you, Lucius. Reveal yours as I will reveal mine and you will see," Severus bared his left forearm and placed it beside Lucius' arm. Malfoy visibly recoiled. Severus' scar was not colored evenly throughout. Some parts were darker and some parts were lighter. But the anomalies in color depth added to the mark's overall intensity. The lines jagged seemingly drawn by an untrained hand. The snake's head looked ready to strike out. A few ugly lesions appeared on the outside of the mark. On the other hand, Lucius' mark was perfection of line and color but it lacked the rawness and vitality of Snape's. "Mine was one of the early trials of the Dark Mark. It has certain impurities that has made it was it is. As you see I suffer from side effects like lesions and boils."  
  
"We seem to have had the better end of things, Severus," Wormtail piped up.  
  
"Yes, your new marks are far more aestheically pleasing and less painful," Snape drew back his hand and covered his mark.  
  
"I must apologize, Severus. I was merely curious," said a chastened Malfoy.  
  
"Quite all right. Now, it is late and I am very tired. If you will excuse me, my lord," said Snape.  
  
"By all means, Severus. You are not looking well at all." Said Voldemort noting the lines of exhaustion on Snape's face. "I will not be summoning you for a while. Go and take care of yourself."  
  
Snape turned and walked off into the darkness behind the dais. Unseen, he retrieved another vial and stoppered it up again once the moths were inside. He then apparated back to Hogwarts.

  


~ * ~

  


As soon as he had apparated he ran for the gates unstoppering the vial along the way. The gates closed immediately as all three entered. McGonagall transformed Flitwick and Filch back to their usual selves. All three collapsed on the grass panting. The adrenalin rush dissipated quickly leaving behind an exhaustion they could feel in the marrow of their bones. Trelawney cast a Circle of Anomi.  
  
"Six months is all I have. We must be ready," Filius said between breaths. "Must be ready."  
  
"Gods, man! You canna do it. Not another Unforgivable." Filch was pale and perspiration dripped down his face.  
  
"We must get Severus to the infirmary right away," said Albus. "Filius and Argus, give me your reports there."  
  
"I'm all right, Albus," said Snape struggling to his feet. "It was a celebration tonight not ... not something else."  
  
"No, Severus, you are not all right. Most definitely not all right if Sprout's theory proves correct," said Ollivander.  
  
"Let's get him to the infirmary then. The sooner he can give a sperm sample the sooner we'll all know." Sinistra said pragmatically. With that she cast a quick "mobilicorpus" and swept Snape off his feet.  
  
"What !? What sperm sample !?" Snape spluttered as he was levitated to the infirmary despite protestions that he was quite ambulatory. His colleague's collectively grim visages did not inspire calm. In fact, by the time they got him to the infirmary, he was fed up with their cryptic answers to his near frantic questioning.

  


~ * ~

  


Some time later in the privacy of his quarters after his escorts had left securing a promise to talk about it in the morning, Severus sent Demos off to do his nightly rounds. Then he himself sank to his knees and cried long and hard mourning the stupidity and hubris of his youth. 

Sprout had analyzed a leftover remnant of Salazar Slytherin's tissue from the Room of Counsel's own archives and artifacts. She and Pomfrey had mapped and identified his own gene patterns from the sperm sample against those of the remnant tissue. There were many identical gene sequences. His genetic makeup was changing absorbing elements of Salazar and Tom Riddle's genes due to the nature of the mark itself and the incantations he had used to imprint it on his arm. Pomfrey strongly suspected that the added energy of Demos and his dark spellcasting of late had also contributed. He didn't know, his thoughts raged. _How could I have known? How could I let this happen?_

There was more research to do and more decisions to make than ever before. Pomfrey and Sprout had a battery of tests planned. Dumbledore was determined to find something to stop the mutation. There were only two choices - stop the change completely or let it run its course but to what end result, no one knew or was willing to hazard a guess. Would he become a near brother to Voldemort and therefore a threat to his leadership? Or would he supercede Voldemort by having no muggle blood whatsoever and carrying more truer genetics - a new starting point for the line of Salazar Slytherin? In that role, he would be an even greater threat and not just to Voldemort. 

  


~ * ~

  


After escorting Snape to his quarters, Dumbledore and Ollivander went on to the headmaster's office to meet with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. Flitwick's report of the meeting coupled with Snape's new situation was disturbing on many levels. These four had much to discuss.  
  
"This is a stroke of unexpected fortune. We have a potential hostage or at least a point of leverage." Minerva McGonagall sipped her tea.

"Minerva, how can you think that?" Mr. Ollivander looked aghast at the very thought.  
  
"Far too easily. I do not want to but there it is. Plain and irrefutable. And I did not say that it was good fortune."  
  
"Severus is not some ... some animal to be tested upon then used for bait, Minerva." Ollivander protested.  
  
"Oh, Flavius, do you not realize that the words pawn, bargaining chip and animal are all synonymous." McGonagall spared a sharp glance at Dumbledore before continuing. "We are all players in this game to be played, to be used, to be discarded. Think you upon that. Were you not the one to say that war justifies any means?"  
  
"Yes, in my more stiff-necked, younger days, yes! I did believe so." Mr. Ollivander pointed out with passion and conviction lending strenght to his voice. "But it did not change the world. We did not change the world for the better. There are still the Grindelwalds and Voldemorts lying about -"  
  
"Only because we, who knew better, failed to do that which was necessary. We failed ourselves, our children and our very future," Dumbledore interrupted from his chair where he sat grave and thoughtful. "We should all follow the example that Severus serves. He does what he must and so should we."  
  
"No, Severus does what he does for redemption and atonement not vengeance which is what you three seem to be of one mind on." Ollivander said with some disgust.  
  
"You were not there listening to Voldemort explaining his plans, lulling his followers to an almost mindless devotion," Flitwick's voice shook with emotion. His mind still reeled from all he had witnessed this horrible night. "He must be stopped at any cost. He will trample over the drained bodies of his followers, be it hill or mountain. He will not feel. He will not care, as long as it leads to his supremacy."  
  
"And in the end after the dust clears from the battefield, we will be little better than him." Ollivander reasoned. "Is this what we are reduced to?"  
  
"Flavius, as you said, we three are of one mind on this. We have sworn to protect and preserve Hogwarts and our students at any cost. We cannot change that but your conscience drives you in the opposite direction," Dumbledore said with arms outstretched. "You do not share our opinion. So I give you a choice. You may leave the field now in honor. There will be no further mention of this incident, you will no longer be required to participate and I will devise some block against your partner bond. Or you may continue on with us. What will it be?"  
  
"That is unfair, Albus," Ollivander stood and addressed the three aiming his words to hit hard and wound deeply. "My family, Severus' family, the Longbottoms and the Bones' have been protecting Hogwarts longer than any of you three have been alive. Generations of service to an ideal crafted by four men against whom you, Albus, pale into insignificance! We of the Tradition have stood by, ready to help, ready to defend time after time after time. Who are you to tell me what I think or to question my resolve!?"  
  
"A divided house will not stand for very long. As for who I am, Flavius, I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore said his next words slowly and deliberately. "I have been given a charge which I failed once before. I will not fail again. I will sacrifice my life and whatever else it takes to not fail again."  
  
Ollivander looked straight into Dumbledore's now stormy eyes. "If I am driven by the dictates of my conscience, so be it. I prefer that than being driven by my fears as you obviously are."   
  
"It is an honest fear that we all share," McGonagall put in. "To not be able to do something and let that madman run amok again is -"  
  
"Taking his side, as always," Ollivander's smile was bitter and his eyes cold. "Fear is more blinding than hate or love or anger. It blinds you to alternatives to this contemplation of armageddon."  
  
"There is no other choice. You must see that, Flavius," Flitwick said trying to defuse the tension.  
  
"No other alternative than turning Voldemort into a martyr for that is what he will become unless you eradicate every single person who believes even a smidgen of his rhetoric. Genocide on a smaller scale but genocide nonetheless." .  
  
"It seems that your choice is made after all," said Dumbledore resignation heavy in his voice.  
  
"Is it, now? Do not ever presume to speak my mind for me, Albus. I choose to stay, if only to prick at your conscience." Ollivander looked at Minerva. "Like you, Albus, I failed someone once before. I will not do so again. A selfish reason, I know, but it is my reason and I think a far better one than yours." 

  


~ * ~

  


The next day at breakfast, Dumbledore announced that Professor Snape would be taking a short leave of absence. Eve Delacour would continue to teach her classes while the other professors would share Snape's other classes between them. He gave no reason for Snape's sudden absence. The Slytherin table was abuzz with theories. The Gryffindor table with two marked exceptions were pretty much celebrating. 

Professor Vector had told Neville and Hermione the truth behind Snape's absence earlier that morning. For the next week, Snape would be isolated in one of the side chambers of the Room of Counsel while Sprout, Pomfrey and Dumbledore subjected him to every test imaginable. Pomfrey had warned Vector not to expect any help from Snape for the next week. No one, no one outside of the herself, Sprout or Dumbledore would have any direct access to Snape. Flitwick himself was devising some extra security around the dungeon entrance. Vector assigned Hermione and Neville to deliberately spread as many plausible rumors and reasons as they could to mislead the student body hiding the real reason for Snape's absence. It was going to be a long week for everyone.  
  
Right after breakfast, Draco Malfoy did what any dutiful son would do, he sent a note to his father about Snape's sudden leave of absence. He added a postscript to his mother thanking her for the treats she had sent previously and that he was looking forward to escorting her to the theater when he was home for the upcoming Christmas holidays.  
  
On a side note, Bill Weasley arrived that morning for a short visit and was welcomed heartily by the staff and his surprised siblings. Trelawney looked at her list while her Divination class was taking their exam. She checked off Bill Weasley's assigned quarters but that still left three guests to arrange lodgings for - Arabella Figg, Alastor Moody and Nicholas Flamell.


	12. Seeds of Renewal and Ruin

**Chapter 12   
_Seeds of Renewal and Ruin_**

_Age creeps up on everyone even me._ Those were the thoughts uppermost in Lucius Malfoy's thoughts as he awoke at mid morning. He let out a hoarse groan as he forced himself out of bed. He couldn't remember doing much last night that would have warranted the aches and pains he was feeling now. It had to be age and stress. He strode to the dining room. His breakfast was waiting and still warm. The hot Ceylon black tea with milk lifted the fog from his mind. A house elf stood nearby waiting for orders.

"Elf, where is your mistress?" he barked between bites.

"Mistress is out, sir. Not said when she would return, sir." The elf trembled wishing fervently that it had a more positive answer.

"Get my day robe ready. I will be leaving shortly. And get me a Pepper Up potion, too."

"Yes, sir."

He would have a talk with Narcissa tonight. He had to make her see reason before Voldemort became too impatient. Voldemort was most insistent on the matter last night. Lucius had to agree with his lord's reasoning. Were Narcissa to join them willingly, it would be a potent display of loyalty and commitment. There were advantages and social avenues that Narcissa's lineage could open for them. Perhaps, Draco could help him persuade her. He considered that for all her other faults, she was a dedicated mother. As he was finishing his breakfast, a post owl dropped a letter. Sipping his tea, he read it.

"Snape is absent from Hogwarts, interesting. A leave of absence, why now?" He made a note to himself to get to bed early tonight. He was still feeling wooly headed but he could feel the potion take effect as he shrugged on his robe and apparated to the Ministry.

--

Fortunately it was a weekend and a Hogsmeade weekend, too. The castle was practically empty. Had a student entered the library that morning, he would have seen Professor Sinistra instead of Madam Pince at the library desk. The librarian was at the time in the Room of Counsel while Madam Pomfrey got some much needed rest. Madam Pince routinely looked into a secluded room just off the main room. Inside lay Professor Snape dozing under heavy medication.

Demos had awakened Madam Pomfrey at dawn having left Snape in a hypertensive seizure. Pomfrey assessed Snape's condition and decided to detoxify him immediately. With Filch's help, Snape was moved to one of the side rooms. That good deed had earned Filch a punch in the mouth and a hurried hex spell when Snape began to struggle. The potions master was not going to be a happy man when he finally awoke. The belt restraints tying him to the bedframe was definitely not going to improve his mood either.

Dumbledore had argued last night seeing Snape lying there with restraints on both arms and legs and several across his middle. His hands were wrapped and strapped to the side rails. "Is that really necessary, Poppy?"

"Yes. He's going to be in worse shape when the anti-pain spells wear off and he regains consciousness. Withdrawal from Pepper Up abuse is a nasty business. Add everything that happened yesterday and this is the result," Poppy's tone brooked no further argument even from the headmaster. Her companion turned bright red as if to support her point as it hovered above Severus' bed.

"But ."

"No, buts. As powerful a wizard as Severus is, I have to take every precaution. His body has gotten used to having stimulants to keep it going. Take those stimulants away and his body will not know what to do. I'm going to keep him in that bed for as long as it takes for his body to recover from the detoxification. He will not work, read, talk or any other activity other than resting for an entire week maybe more if he puts up a fuss."

"That will be difficult." Dumbledore said.

"Too right. Severus is the worse of patients. He will say anything to get out of that bed and gad about. Fortunately, I and Cera are immune to his charms. He will get the treatment he deserves, believe you me. I've even asked Demos to stay away for as long as he can. I want to get some baseline readings when Demos is not merged and when he is."

"Demos can only stay out for an hour or two at most, Poppy."

" I think he can last longer. It's time Demos got to see our world in the daytime instead of lurking about only at night or being confined to the dungeon areas. It will do him some good. Now you, Albus, are not to come in here without either Cera or myself in attendance."

"What?"

"I don't want you telling him more news that will only distress him. Severus will find a way to convince you that he's the only one to solve whatever crisis is currently happening and be out of here in no time."

"Really, Poppy."

"No, Albus. I know you too well. That's the rule. Stick to it or lose all visitation privileges." Poppy crossed her arms and dared Albus to say anything else. "Don't try anything. My companion will be watching Severus all the time with instructions to use whatever means necessary to keep him in bed. There will be no jailbreaks on my watch."

In the meantime in the library, Sinistra worked on her ideas for natural defense systems using airborne spores, microscopic burrs and hallucinogenic scents. The olfactory sense is one of the most powerful human senses and also the most primitive and least developed. People don't realize how much their nose dictates their behavior from sexual pheromones to general likes and dislikes. No one thinks about it until they can't breathe and then it suddenly becomes vitally important.

- -

Every philosopher, venerated and otherwise, all agree to disagree on the answer to the question "How does one tell the good from the bad, the right from the wrong?" Consider the flipside of that age old question - "Why does everyone have a different definition?" Leaving aside moral ambiguity, secular sensibilities, religious diversity, scientific posturing and individual indecisiveness, how does one know for certain? The simplest answer is "That which causes immediate fear is bad while that which does not can be considered good, at least for that moment." That was the answer that Demos received from the Tree of Blessings that Saturday morning. By far it was the one answer that made the most sense to him.

The meeting with Voldemort had left Demos confused. The pentagram seemed to draw him out against his will and only Severus' outright refusal to release him kept him in place. The sensations had agitated him to the point that Severus had had to exercise iron control and expend much energy to contain him. He had been told that bad things made one feel bad. Bad things were to be avoided. If the pentagram was bad, why did it draw him so? Severus had not wanted to discuss his questions or anything else that had happened.

This morning Severus was still unconscious. He had thought it was an uncomplicated question but he now realized that humans thought about it all the time and let it rule their actions through a set of rules they called morality or belief systems. Whatever the rules were called, he now knew that humans needed to have some rules predefined in order to decide between good and bad. That was very straightforward. But what he was unsure about now was the seeming multiplicity of rules that differed by person to person. And then, there were the different degrees of good and bad. He would save that for another time.

He had spent his night patrol asking different entities the same question. As he stood by the Tree of Blessing waiting for further instructions from Professor Sprout, he pondered the other answers he had gathered.

Bloody Baron: The good advances your cause. The bad weakens or reverses your cause.

Sir Nicholas: You know it's right because it feels right so you know that it's the right thing to do.

Fat Friar: The right and good is that which is approved by God's law. Anything else is bad.

Gray Lady: The good is supported by logic and reason while the bad is influenced solely by emotion.

Filch: Simple. If it in my way, it's bad. If it refuses to let me do what I need to do, it's bad.

Sinistra: It depends on the person, what they believe in or what they're destined to do.

Ollivander: The good has a positive long term effect. The bad is always short term, always negative.

McGonagall: The bad gives you regrets, many regrets. The good gives you hope.

Flitwick: The good you do for the many. The bad you reserve for a very deserving few.

Dumbledore: The right thing is what you need to do. The wrong thing is what you're afraid to do.

For now, he had decided to formulate his own rules. Then he would know good and bad. That was important if he was to help Severus with his work. The other companions told him of how they helped their friends. Every day he saw how the others worked with their companions on small and great tasks. Even though Demos did some things for Severus, Severus still kept him at arms length unwilling to discuss and share his ideas and thoughts. Demos could never ignore the nagging sense that there were many, many things Severus was deliberately keeping to himself. He needed to do more. He was determined to do more. But what?

Professor Sprout instructed, "Demos, please ask if it needs more organic nutrients like water and nitrogen?"

Demos touched the trunk and thought the question. Shortly, he replied to Professor Sprout "It says that it would like approximately 10 more phosphorus and about fifteen percent less potassium at this time. Water levels are more than adequate." Demos paused as he listened to another message. "And, Professor, its first fruit is due tomorrow."

"Oh, that is wonderful!. Completely ahead of schedule," Sprout clapped her hands in delight. She stood on the other side of the energy barrier field which was transparent with only the occassional red energy pulse to indicate that it was there.

Her companion was inspecting the tree's trunk and leaf structure on her behalf. Only energy could pass through the barrier as the tree did not truly exist in their reality. The barrier acted not only as a protective field but also as a connecting window between dimensions. Ingenious method by Snape to both hide and protect the tree. She looked at the tree with affectionate regard. It was a handsome one - silver trunk, deep brown branches and deep red leaves veined in gold. No one knew what the fruit would be like nor what the properties would be.

"Professor, it says that it is very full right now. It drained the food source last night and would like to know if there would be more food tonight." Demos said.

"Oh, of course, the poor thing. There will be three sitters tonight -Vector, Trelawney and Pince - scheduled tonight." Sprout answered after consulting a piece of parchment tacked on the wall. "With their companions, it will have energy as well as some amusement. Demos, please explain that we were all on alert last night and that's why no one was here."

Demos was silent while he explained. "Professor, it feels bad that it left nothing behind. It tried to restrain itself as it was told to do but it was very hungry."

"It's all right, no harm done. Well, unless you count Mr. Finnigan and Mr. McMillan's formal protest to the headmaster when they saw the empty hourglasses this morning." Sprout smiled remembering how she saw the two students pass by the hourglasses, get halfway through the doors of the Great Hall then run back to the main hall to check what their eyes had seen. She had suggested the formal complaint to them.

- -

In Hogsmeade, the Three Broomsticks was crowded as usual. Rosmerta flitted here and there delivering drink orders. Ron carried a tray of butterbeers towards a corner table where Harry, Ginny, and Bill were waiting. The butterbeers were passed out in record time.

"So, Bill, how long are you here?" Ginny asked.

"Just a few days, Ginny," Bill said. " I took some vacation days and plan on visiting Mum and Dad too."

"How's the curse breaking business?" asked Harry.

"It's gotten slower in Egypt. Many of the senior curse breakers like me have been reassigned. I'm considering asking for a new assignment." Bill sipped his butterbeer. "There's a new site being excavated near Glastonbury. I might ask for that assignment. If not there's another one in Aylshire that could prove to be interesting."

"Mum will be thrilled to have you closer to home," said Ginny.

"Yes, well, I'll cross that bridge when I have to. I've gotten used to independence," said Bill with a lopsided grin. He eye spotted an attractive young woman around his age slim build but curvy with dark blond hair tied in a bun. His fingers itched to loosen that bun. "Do any of you know that lady ordering a drink at the bar .. the one with the hair bun?"

"That's Eve Delacour. She's my potions teacher," said Ginny. "I don't miss Professor Snape at all."

"She's Fleur's sister," added Ron."Remember from the Triwizards Cup."

"Invite her over and introduce me," Bill said it in that tone that an older brother learns to use on their younger siblings to get immediate cooperation.

"Ms. Delacour, over here!" Ron rose and waved. Eve Delacour collected her beer and weaved her way around the other tables to reach them.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. It is very crowded here today," said Eve. Everyone had moved around to let Bill sit next to Eve. That preference was unsaid but it did not take a genius to realize what Bill was up to.

"Ms Delacour, meet my brother Bill. He's a cursebreaker for Gringotts in Egypt. He's up here for a visit." Ron introduced her and promptly got out of Bill's way. That was the thing about being the youngest boy in a large family, you developed good instincts on when to shut up and get out of the way. Ron decided he would watch Bill and get some pointers.

"Ginny tells me that you're her potions teacher. Did you just start at Hogwarts?" Bill inquired keeping his attention solely on the lady who at closer inspection was even more attractive.

"I started last week. I'm one of a group of graduate students on loan from the university," said Eve returning Bill's interest in equal measure. "I am teaching most of the lower classes. Professor Snape has asked me to finish the term and I believe I will do so. And yourself how long will you be staying."

A very direct woman, thought Bill. "I'll be in and out of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. I have vacation for the next two and half weeks. But I'm thinking, strongly thinking of getting reassigned to England. Egypt is losing its fascination for me."

"I doubt that there is anything here in England that would be more fascinating to you," Eve responded taking a sip of her butterbeer and looking at Bill over the rim of her glass.

"I'm not too sure about that. I'm sure I'll find some of England's better attractions," said Bill.

"Here's to your quest, then." Eve clinked her glass with Bill and smiled. Ron was full of admiration for his older brother. It had only taken three sentences.

The table had suddenly gotten too small for so many people. Realizing this, Harry stood up and tactfully excused the younger set with "Well, we promised to get Hermione some sweets from Honeydukes. We should get going Ginny, Ron." The other two rose and said their goodbyes. Bill waved goodbye but his eyes never left Eve Delacour.

- -

At the Ministry, Lucius found himself waiting outside the meeting chambers with Walden MacNair for company. Macnair was subdued this morning another victim of the late night.

"It was good last night, wasn't it?" asked Macnair not bothering to stifle a yawn. "He seemed stronger than before. That's good."

"Yes, our lord is quickly regaining his powers and his physical body will be stronger than before. He told me so himself." Lucius agreed.

"I forgot to ask last night but I have someone who wants to join."

"Are you absolutely sure of him ... his beliefs, loyalty?"

"Reasonably. Third cousin of mine."

"Not good enough. We must be careful. Give me his name later and I will have him investigated first. Remember, our lord has admonished us that we must be wary of traitors. We want only those who will be the most dedicated and loyal."

"Understood. Congratulations on your new position, Lucius. We've never had deputies before."

"Thank you, Walden. I can't say that it is not deserved." Lucius smirked. "It's the right thing to do. We're going to get bigger and that means that we need to be more organized. Deputies are just the beginning, mark my words."

- -

_Not in the common room. Not in the Great Hall. Not in any of the greenhouses. He didn't go to Hogsmeade. He said he was going to do some research._ Hermione exited the library after failing to find Neville inside. _Where is that dratted boy?_ In the distance, a muffled boom echoed through the halls. It was followed by several equally muffled booms every other minute. She followed the booms hoping to find Neville at the other end. She found herself in the dungeons almost being run over by a running Mr. Filch. She followed at a more dignified pace. If Neville was on the other end, she could at least distract Filch while he made a run for it.

"You've lost your touch," said Flitwick shaking soot off his clothes.

Mr. Ollivander, equally dirty with his hair streaked black and gray by soot and dust, followed his friend quickly down one of the passageways. "A slight miscalculation nothing more. One needs to keep in practice for this kind of thing."

"You've forgotten the recipe. You just won't admit it," Flitwick huffed. Behind him plumes and clouds of smoke were filling the passageway. "You need to keep focused, Flavius. No distractions."

"I wasn't distracted. The incantation was perfect. I have to practice my delivery. It has to be just so," Ollivander replied then as if his mind jumped to another thought sequence he said, "I wonder if she liked the flowers I sent over this morning. Minerva wasn't at breakfast so I couldn't ask her and she blocks the bond as much as she can. You think she liked it? Maybe flowers was a bad idea after what I said last night?"

Before Flitwick could form a suitable retort, Filch advanced on them. "What happened 'ere?"

"Just a small accident, Argus," said Flitwick.

"Small? Seven explosions, steam coming out of one end of the castle and smoke out the other? You call that small?"

"I was just practicing a few little things... got a bit out of hand." said Ollivander in all innocence.

"First Snape now this. The armory is still intact, isn't it?" Filch's companion popped out and zoomed through the corridor following the smoke to its source.

"The walls are just fine, Argus," Flitwick turned and fled heading for the staff room with Ollivander in tow. Being of small stature all his life made him uniquely appreciative of the advantages of an early retreat. In this case it was better to get out of Filch's reach before his companion reported the real damage. They would come back tomorrow to finish enspelling the battle wands.

He glanced sideways at his old comrade at arms who again had a distant look in manner and face. Minerva's indifference was not having the desired effect on Ollivander. Flavius spent most of his free time scheming of ways to get a rise out of Minerva. Minerva spent an equal amount of time pretending to be completely unaffected. So far she was winning which only motivated Flavius even more. He would have a talk with Minerva after dinner tonight. Talking to Flavius about it was hopeless. He burbled on and on about the state of his love life. He needed a focused wandmaker not a distracted, lovelorn one. They encountered Hermione on the way back.

"Professor, have either of you seen Neville," Hermione did not even blink at the older gentlemen's dusty grimy appearance. Being involved in Harry's escapades tended to increase one's tolerance towards danger, unusual events, unpredictable results and natural disasters.

"Have you checked the Intelligence room?" asked Flitwick

"I didn't know there was one. Neville has to be there. I've looked everywhere else."

"Come with me then, Ms. Granger. I will be more than happy to escort you." Ollivander offered. Flitwick departed muttering under his breath about finding Minerva as soon as possible. "The Eyrie, as Severus calls it, is in the North Tower."

"I've never heard of it, Mr. Ollivander," said an intrigued Hermione.

"No, you wouldn't have. The Eyrie was the private sanctuary of Salazar Slytherin and its use is strictly monitored. Perfect place for the intelligence team's offices, I say."

"So it's dangerous like the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Only to those who mean it harm. The artifacts in that room are priceless and ancient. Things that Salazar collected during his lifetime or were gifts to him. The Snapes have added a few things over the years. Unlike the chamber, it's purpose is not malicious. The Chamber and the Eyrie represent the two sides of Salazar Slytherin - the crusader and the scholar."

"Scholar? That's not the Salazar Slytherin the history books talk about," said Hermione.

"Well, someone had to be the bad one. It makes the story more palatable."

"You make it sound like recorded history and what really happened are two different things."

"Things are rarely entirely what they seem, especially in our world, Ms. Granger."

"You're not what you seem to be either. I remember the day I got my wand. You were so gentle and grandfatherly showing me which end of the wand to hold, how to hold it right. You knew how nervous I was. I mean it's one thing to get a Hogwarts letter but quite another to actually be able to do something with a wand." She watched as Mr. Ollivander touched each picture counting under his breath.

"After the meeting in the Counsel Room I got curious about everybody. You and Professor Flitwick fought alongside the headmaster in the war against Grindelwald. You were one of the most vocal warhawks of the time. I found some things about everyone except Professor Snape or Snapes in general. Other than entries in alchemical treatises, I can't find much else about him or his family and I've looked hard for weeks."

"Recognition is not always necessary, desirable nor sought out, Ms. Granger. Weeks?"

"I've been trying to find some research data to prove a point." Hermione said it with such a degree of overarching pithiness that Ollivander was strongly reminded of Minerva when she did not want to discuss something - now or ever. He let the manner drop.

"Here we are. Unless the password has changed," Ollivander said the password and the door swung open. "Anyone in?!"

Mr. Ollivander showed her in then went straight to the espresso machine. Neville waved from his desk by the windows. His desk was piled high with volumes and parchments crowded but neat. "Hi, Hermione, Mr. Ollivander, sir."

Hermione was too busy looking around the room as she absentmindedly said, "Neville, I've been looking everywhere for you. So this is where you've been disappearing off to. Nice, very plush." Her eyes automatically read the spines of the books sitting on his desk. She pounced on one old, tattered volume. "Neville, where did you get this book? There are only three copies in the entire world! What are you writing in?"

"Just doing the daily coded ciphers. Why were you looking for me?"

"A few things. I had some ideas regarding our assignment that I need to run by you. Also, can you monitor the common room tonight? I forgot I have a planning meeting for tonight."

"You? Actually forget something?" teased Neville.

"Yes. It does happen. I am not all-knowing." Hermione said in a wry, self- depracating tone. Her eyes began roaming about the room again. "And you need to stop disappearing every morning. Harry and the others are getting suspicious. Is that an espresso machine, a real one?"

"Take your pick - cappucino, different lattes or espresso. We're thinking of getting a smoothie machine next, whatever that is. Calvin, Professor Vector, swears it's results are heavenly."

She stepped over to the counter as Mr. Ollivander was filling his mug with hot espresso. "But, I don't understand, muggle devices don't work at Hogwarts."

"True, save for this room." Said Ollivander moving to sit in an armchair by the fire.

"Am I never to believe Hogwarts, A History ever again?" Hermione set about expertly making cappucino. She was delighted to find shakers of cinnamon and chocolate.

"Actually, that one is fairly accurate. Just read it with an open mind." Ollivander advised.

"There was one other thing, Neville. I don't know how I'm going to track the Slytherins. I'm not exactly popular in that house. Any ideas?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you to switch with me. I'll take Slytherin if you take Ravenclaw while we double team Hufflepuff and Gryffindor."

"What's the catch?" Hermione eyed this new Neville in front of her with some wariness as she took the chair by his desk.

"No catch. I just think I absorb that bunch's insults better than you do." Neville said with just too much perception on his part. "Less personal, you know, bounces off well."

"Good luck and thank you! How are you going to do it?"

"Don't ask and I won't have to tell you any lies," Neville said. "But I do intend to have some fun doing it."

The door opened and Professor McGonagall came in. She was carrying a steaming cup of tea. "We'll be having our meeting here, Hermione. Sybil will be joining us after she picks up Vector."

"Right, Professor," Hermione turned to Neville and they resume their discussion on their joint Club assignment. "I was thinking about the whole can't-sleep-in-the-dungeon thing. One of the hurdles is getting our energy from one point to the other."

"You're right. I might have a solution though. Here, have a look at this passage." Neville pulled a thick volume out of his stack and opened to a bookmarked page. "Here, it says - "

"That's interesting but what about the problem with ..." said Hermione instantly engrossed in the text. She and Neville proceeded to riffle through various books and parchments.

Meanwhile by the fire, Minerva took the chair next to Ollivander and said softly, "Thank you for the flowers."

"Sorry about last night. I don't understand you and Albus sometimes, you're -" Ollivander began.

"He's like . he cares too much. Always gets me into these predicaments," Minerva smiled facing her old flame. Ollivander returned the first genuine smile she'd aimed at him in a long time. "I don't always know what to do about it so I go off and brood."

"Muggles have a saying 'Go with the flow' "

"By myself?"

"If you choose," said Ollivander trying to sound neutral and failing. ".. but I had hoped you would choose otherwise."

There was a long pause before she said, "I've decided that company would be appreciated. It's a long trip, and, I suspect, a longer way down this time."

Ollivander took her hand in his. "I promise to travel light then. No more past baggage either way, up or down."

"Our way has never been easy. I can offer no guarantees." There it was bluntly said, she thought. _Now what?_

"I expect none." Ollivander pressed his advantage. "Dinner out tomorrow? I can guarantee good food and conversation."

"I thought you were checking on the store tomorrow?"

"I've decided to take Filius' advice and let go a bit. I'm sure Hugh is up to the challenge. I have something more important to attend to."

"Just the one?"

"The only one." Ollivander brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss upon her skin.

- -

It was almost noon at the derelict little gray farmhouse. There were no visible remnants of the celebrations and debauchery of the night before. Inside, Voldemort turned his face to the left then to the right. The muggle mirror confirmed that his sickeningly sallow complexion was no more. It had been replaced overnight by one with the hue of health and growing vigor. Even his skin was soft and moist instead of dry and scaly. After the gathering last night, he had felt sleepy. That in itself was highly unusual. Insomnia had been his constant companion since he had attained his physical form. But last night, foregoing his nightly research, he had slept deeply. When he awoke he had marveled at feeling a dozen times more energetic than ever and experiencing a long forgotten sensation - hunger. He had summoned Wormtail. When Wormtail arrived, he ordered him to bring food.

"Food, master? Like breakfast?" Wormtail asked. He was so surprised that he forgot to be subservient.

"Yes, as in breakfast. I have a taste for scrambled eggs, some cumberland sausages, bacon, tomato and black pudding with an Earl Grey." Voldemort clarified. "Be quick about it. My stomach is starting to hurt."

"But, you never eat. I've never seen - "

"Well, I need to eat now. Lunch, breakfast, I don't care. Just go on and get me something to eat!"

"Yes, right away, of course!" Wormtail left to do his master's bidding.

As Voldemort stood there, he realized that it wasn't only his appetite for food that had returned. There were other appetites vying for his attention and craving satisfaction. But not here and not yet, he thought. His nostrils flared with the fetid stench of the place. He itched to leave immediately. But he would stay for tonight. He needed to test a few things first. How long would he feel like this? Would it ebb with the day? Would he feel stronger tomorrow? He had many, many questions. However, he was certain of one thing, he owed his good health to Severus' work. While he waited for Wormtail's return, the dark lord pondered a fitting reward for his most trusted disciple.


	13. To Forge a New Path

**Chapter 13   
_To Forge a New Path_**

A long time ago at Hogwarts, the founders were having a hastily convened assembly.

"We cannot turn them away," Helga Hufflepuff insisted. "Their families have disowned them as unholy and cursed."

"Are we to become a charity house?" said Rowena Ravenclaw. "While I sympathize with their plight, Helga, it will start a precedent. We may find our doors besieged by more like them."

"If it comes to that, we will deal with it, if it happens," said Godric Gryffindor. "But for now we have two children who need our help. They are at an age whereby they could not survive on their own. We should provide them shelter and schooling until they are able to decide their own path."

Salazar Slytherin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "They are certainly deserving of our protection and shelter. But to teach them ... here? These who have come by their magic by accident do -"

"Nature is not an accident, Salazar. They are one of us. They have been blessed and they must be trained to use that magic." Helga interrupted.

"True enough, but do those born of nonmagic heritage have the same level of magic as we do? I suspect not." Rowena replied. ""I must then question the logic of including them in the same classes as our own exceptional students. It would be a disservice to force our students to learn at the pace of two who will most likely need more instruction."

"What better way to confirm your theory than to observe these two children directly, Rowena," said Godric patiently.

Salazar gazed at his favorite former pupil now grown into full maturity. "Magnus, you brought them here, what say you?"

Magnus Snape rose and addressed his old teachers. "I tested them when they were first brought to me. Their parents thought that they were bewitched and that I, as the local alchemist and apothecary could help them. By my measurements, I have found that they can indeed do rudimentary summoning spells and the like. However, the level of innate magic is much lower that the rest of us. In fact, their levels are so low I find it surprising that they can do magic at all. To my mind, these children are harmless. However, as they grow older, if they remain untrained, they and their magic will become a problem especially to those around them."

Always the optimist, Magnus," Salazar replied with a smile.

"I feel that they should be trained to the highest level each can attain. If you do not want to, then I will attempt to undertake their education though I admit to being a poor teacher."

"Yes, I remember that among your peers you were the one sought out whenever a difficult question arose but the last if help was needed," Rowena commented.

"Our mission is to educate and protect our students. Let us not muddy the waters further by allowing our personal opinions to govern and decide who we teach," said Helga.

"Only children - let us not lose sight of that," Godric urged.

"They are a unique case, perhaps we should see what they can do," Rowena said reasonably. Rowena, Godric and Helga all looked at Salazar waiting for his decision.

"I see that you are all of one spirit in this notion." Salazar stood up and paced upon the floor for a while deep in thought. The others, long used to his habits, waited silently. Salazar sighed deeply. "As they are still children, I will agree. But I sense that this capitulation will prove to be a mistake. Let us hope that the cost will not prove too dear."

"Thank you, Salazar," said Helga. "Though it must pain you so to compromise."

"More than you know," Salazar looked at Magnus. "Well, Magnus, bring in your two whelps so they may be properly introduced."

- -

Hermione resisted the urge to look over the fascinating displays in the Founders Counsel room. Madam Pomfrey said she could give the trustee brief to Professor Snape and if he was conscious she could discuss it briefly with him. She went to one of the side doors and it opened before she could knock. It opened into a long narrow hallway. A companion weaved about in the air moving down the corridor. Hermione followed passing other closed doors. She clutched the briefs tighter to her.

They came to a large room. Inside Snape sat upright in the bed clad in a dark brown short sleeved shirt and what looked like matching pajamas. The restraints were intimidating. The companion hovered over the bed and released the hand and arm restraints. The professor motioned her over. He looked more rested and the circles around his eyes less noticeable.

"I was told I was finally allowed a visitor," he said in a weary voice.

"Well, it's only me," she replied. "I have strict instructions to keep you calm and not start any arguments."

"Will you able to comply with that?"

"I will if you will, Professor."

"You're being presumptious again."

"It's a family trait. I asked." Hermione grinned and Snape's lips quirked up at the corners..

"Well, show me the brief. I'm sure I shall find something that needs correction," Snape took the brief. Hermione noticed that the professor moved slowly and deliberately. His left forearm was covered in bandages. His right arm was coated with a green film. He did not move his left arm much at all.

She sat in a wingchair by the bed. In companionable silence punctuated by an occasional comment, they went over the brief with Hermione making notes on her copy. He closed the brief and sighed. He had a headache from what little reading he had just done.

"I do not see mention of the complaint. Your complaint about me, specifically, Ms Granger."

"We, Professor Mcgonagall and I, agreed that since you reduced the points you took off, I had to withdraw my complaint."

"You've had a change of heart and do not want to get rid of me after all?"

"You have your uses, Professor." Hermione stood up. "I should go. I have a planning meeting next and you need your rest."

"Wait, Ms. Granger, I need you to do something for me."

"You're asking for my help? You?" she arched her eyebrow at him.

"Do not be obtuse. You are the only one here who else would I be asking. If you do not want to then- "

"I'd love to help, professor. I was just surprised."

"Very well. Go to my office. In the upper right hand drawer, you will find a silver and cream envelope. When you are able, bring it to me here. I have adjusted my wards to accept you."

"You did?" Hermione collected the briefs. Snape leaned back into his pillows.

"I did so when you became an official member of the Club, Ms. Granger. You also now have access to my restricted stores."

"Thank you! Can I have one more request?"

"I give you one thing and you ask for another. What is it? Make it quick." His voice had a bit of its usual impatient snap.

"Access to the Eyrie library. I promise I will adhere to all the rules on their use, though some are incredibly draconian. We don't live in the fifteenth century anymore, professor and -"

Severus held up a hand. "Enough. I will discuss the matter with Longbottom. Please ask him to see me. Will that be all, then?"

"Just one more thing," Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I said about you before, professor. If I'd known what I know now, well ... too late to take anything back, but I would if I could."

"Let us be honest, Ms. Granger. You would not take anything back and neither would I."

"You're right, I wouldn't." Hermione grinned. "But I could have said it better. You are the teacher and I've found that there is a lot I don't know."

As he watched her leave, his mind went back to an afternoon some weeks back.

The potions class had been an unmitigated disaster that day - three explosions, one melted cauldron and six students sent to the infirmary. His control had snapped and he raged at the class commenting on their ineptitude and general sloppiness reducing most of the girls, save one, to tears. He had dismissed them and as the students were leaving Hermione Granger walked to his desk literally quivering with outrage.

"Yes, Ms. Granger? What do you want?"

"I am informing you that as a prefect, I am filing a formal complaint against you, Professor. That was ... was - "

"I am what I am, Ms. Granger. It was not my destiny to be born under a temperate star." Snape said.

"You could try to curb your more abrasive tendencies, Professor."

"But I prefer not to, Ms Granger, nor do I see any need to."

"I hear all their complaints, Professor. The class would learn more if they weren't so terrified of you."

"I highly doubt that."

"But why do you go out of your way to be disagreeable when you don't have to be? It's illogical."

"I assure you it takes little effort. If my mother is to be believed, I acquired my present temperament at birth."

"And you have improved upon that with generous dollops of surliness and sarcasm. You have my congratulations, Professor, on a job well done."

"I accept my shortcomings, Ms. Granger. Have you? You were obviously born within sight distance of a pernicious, meddlesome star."

Red faced, Hermione retorted "My family acknowledges my tendency to be drawn to hopeless causes. Consider yourself off my list, Professor. Your reformation is beyond my capacity or anyone else's, I suspect."

Snape had been enjoying their articulte bantering but that last comment was too much. He lashed out malevolently. "I shall add impertinent presumptiousness to my inventory of your character and deduct points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger - one hundred points!"

"One hundred points!? You'll need to discuss that with Professor McGonagall!"

"Oh, I will, you may be certain of that. You, Ms. Granger, need to remember who the teacher is. You are here to learn not to preach."

"I'm not learning much in class as it is! You are more a hindrance than a help!"

"That's another fifty, Ms Granger." Snape said through gritted teeth. "For your attitude and disrespect, I have half a mind to deduct fifty points for every statement you've made thus far."

Too furious to do more than splutter helplessly, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and marched out of the room. Snape returned to his papers but inwardly he was fuming. Didn't that girl have any appreciation?! How could she berate him for not doing anything to help? Wasn't he contemplating consorting with demons for the sole purpose of finding a way to end the threat of Voldemort? If he was successful, muggle-borns like her could live and learn in peace. Wasn't that worth a little consideration from that interfering chit?

An hour later, Professor McGonagall came in holding a rolled parchment. She slapped the parchment on his work table. "Well, Severus, was this really necessary?"

"It would not be necessary if Ms Granger did not feel like she had carte blanche to question her teachers whenever the whim strikes her," Snape answered while sorting through several ingredients.

"She was trying to help you improve your class."

"Which is not her concern, Minerva. Nor did I solicit any helpful comments from her."

"Severus, your classes have the highest complaint rates in all of Hogwarts. You overtook Binns and Filch years ago."

"Is that right? Then I gladly accept the honor however dubious." Severus made a few notations in his work log detailing the recipe of his version of the Consula Econtra.

"This complaint will need to be in the trustees report this quarter, Severus, unless she withdraws it."

"Yet another valid reason to call for my removal. The student body will be overjoyed I'm sure."

"Severus, please, this is serious. Why do you always have these disagreements with Ms Granger? None of the other teachers have had as many issues with her as you do."

"Your protégé is universally admired by the staff as a model student. She sees you as a role model. Filius and Vector praise her every chance they get. She fawned over Lockhart, admired Lupin despite what he is. However, with me, her behavior is abominable. She talks back. She is sometimes disruptive in class. And she persists in helping Longbottom despite my orders to desist." Snape explained. "I am at a loss as to why she behaves so only with me."

"I see. She stands up to you and all your defense mechanisms flare up."

"I do not get defensive. I have no cause to be defensive. Go psychoanalyze someone else, Minerva. Why does she feel the need to critique my class? I have taught the same way for years. Potions is an exacting art and it must be taught with rigorous discipline and method."

"She does have a compulsive tendency to want to help. She probably senses that you need the most help." Minerva tapped her fingers on the table's edge. "Ever since she became a prefect this year she has been very interested in improvements to the school."

"I laud her good intentions while deploring her persistence." Said Snape

"You're tired, Severus, and it makes you more irritable. You have to get some rest.."

"We're all tired, Minerva, but we cannot rest just yet. You know why we cannot."

"You are on a killing pace. It will catch up with you."

"I'll deal with it then."

"I have spoken with Ms Granger about this. I have asked her to discuss her issues with me instead of approaching you first." Said Professor Mcgonagall. "I would like a moratorium on conflicts between you two."

"Very well. I promise to hold my tongue. Will that serve?" Snape compromised.

"Yes.. for now. It looks like you're almost ready." .

"I will attempt my first summoning tomorrow night. Wish me luck," He closed the log and turned to look at his colleague.

"Are you sure this is the only way? Dark magic has a great cost."

"We cannot stay as we are waiting for the Blessing to completely fade. We have the time now and we must use it. We cannot rely solely on the headmaster." Snape looked pensive. "As for the cost, the saying let the punishment fit the crime applies very well."

Back in the present, Severus Snape dealt with his current predicament in the only way he could. He slept and slept and slept.

- -

Peter Pettigrew opened the door of the farmhouse carefully. It had been a strange unpredictable day all in all. First, all the food that his lord had consumed today from breakfast to dinner. The evidence was piled high on a table in one side of the house. His lord had then wanted clothes, muggle and wizard fashions. Then, a bed. He was bringing the item with him now. Pettigrew was never very good at transfiguration so he had had to find a real bed and shrink it.

Voldemort instructed him where to position the bed. The dark lord himself enlarged it. Wormtail looked at the soft featherbed longingly. All the activity had tired him out. He was looking forward to an early retirement to his own bed tonight.

"Thank you, Wormtail. That will be all. You have been a great help today."

"I am here to serve you, my lord. I will return with breakfast in the morning."

- -

Professor Sybil Trelawney stretched out on the sofa in the Eyrie while Professor Vector made them some coffee. "Calvin, I have never casted so many oblivates in my life as I have tonight. Someone should have warned me."

"It's a weekend, Sybil, and Las Vegas is much busier on weekends." Vector stirred his cappucino and put Sybil's latte on a tray. He took a seat in one of the armchairs.

"Now I know why Sinistra is always so tired." Sybil took a sip of her drink. "Why were you in such a hurry to leave?"

"Well, I had just cashed in my chips and usually that's when I'm accosted by the establishment's personnel and taken to the cooler." Vector explained. "Usually happens when I break the bank."

"Did you break the bank tonight?"

"Um, yes, all three places."

"Three! Why take such a risk?"

"Were you not the one to tell me that our funds were close to deficit points and that it had to replenished quickly. So, I went to three places and put the maximum bets on several games. I only spent a half hour in each place."

"I'm afraid to ask but I have to. How much is a maximum bet?"

"Oh, anywhere from one thousand to five thousand United States dollars."

"Per game, are you mad?!" She sat up and faced the arithmancy teacher.

"Per hand, Sybil. And I am not mad. I simply calculate probabilities and -"

"You expose our discretionary fund to gross risk relying on luck to . to be on your side?!"

"Well, you divination types would believe in luck. But luck has nothing to do with this. It's the perfectly safe and controlled application of mathematical theory." Neither Sybil nor Vector noticed Professor McGonagall and Hermione come in. They stood off to the side watching the heated byplay.

"You are tempting Fate and Fate does not like to be thwarted," Sybil pointed out. "Next time let me do a reading before you go off."

"Most definitely not!" Vector fairly snarled his response.

"Why not? Are you one of those who believe I got my position because of any other reason but actual talent?"

"For your information, I have never cared one way or the other how you got here nor why you stay. I am opposed because hearing a reading before I go is tantamount to setting myself up for failure. And besides, a reading never decides an actual outcome only a probable one."

"I would rather know if there was a higher chance of losing money before I do anything rather than lose it all just because it wasn't my night." Sybil shot back. "What you are doing is thoughtless and reckless."

"Well, we can't all stay risk-free all our lives," Vector said with some sharpness. "Life is about risk. About letting life happen. Not predicting it."

McGonagall decided to interrupt what could easily degenerate into an all night harangue. "Calvin, what is the tally tonight?" She and Hermione moved to take seats themselves.

Vector pulled himself together, took a deep breath and said "One hundred seventy thousand dollars."

"Minerva, do you know what he's doing?" asked Sybil.

"He is getting results." Said Mcgonagall.

"With the potential of losing the entire discretionary fund in one night." Sybil retorted hotly.

"But I wouldn't" said Vector.

"But you could." Said Sybil.

"But I won't because I won't let it get to that," said Vector. His voice had a dangerous edge that no one in that room had ever heard before. "Sybil, trust me, I guard our funds closely. I am more conservative than you believe in using them. I will never put our funding at risk willingly or knowingly."

"But -"

"That is all I have to say on the subject now or ever. Good night, ladies." Vector glided out of the room leaving two amused females and one who was far from amused.

Mcgonagall shook her head and said looking at Sybil then Hermione. "What is it with you two and difficult men? "

Both Hermione and Sybil answered at the same time "What?!"

McGonagall shook her head. "Nothing, just an observation. Let's get on with this meeting.."

- -

For eight o'clock at night, Malfoy Manor was quiet, too quiet. The three house elves gathered in the kitchen exchanging worried glances. Something was going to happen. They could feel it. The mistress had eaten alone. That was something that never happened. The master had not called on any of them since he had arrived at six from the Ministry. Not for anything.

Narcissa Malfoy hesitated a beat before knocking on the door of her husband's suite. She knew full well that he preferred to be left alone when he was working on something. But, some instinct made her want to see him to make sure that he was all right. She knocked then entered when she heard no response.

She made her way into the bedroom. Under the covers she saw Lucius fast asleep. On the nightstand was an empty flask. Probably a sleeping draught, she thought. She kneeled next to him, touched his cheek then brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his face. Lucius stirred but didn't open his eyes. His forehead was cool, normal. She could see new lines on his face. Even in sleep, he looked haggard. He's working too much, she thought. All these years and he was still bent on proving her family wrong about him. She straightened the covers pulling it up to his chin. She stoked the fire adding another log to last the night.

She hesitated at the door and came back in. She wanted to share his bed tonight instead of waiting for him in hers. She slipped off her robe spelling the lights off as she got into bed. For some time she just looked down on him while he slept. She mused on the two men in her life - her husband and son - so alike and so unalike.

- -

The bed was so soft and inviting. Voldemort was enjoying a deep, restful slumber. His tests had been successful. His body regenerated best at night so he would drain more energy at night. While in the daytime he would drain only a small fraction from his followers. He surmised that eventually he would no longer need to leech energy just to sustain his body. In several months, his body would be fully healed. In the meantime, he would enjoy his leisure. He had missed too many pleasures for too long. He would plan the breakout of the LesStranges next week but tonight he would dream. This was an indulgence denied to him when he was still incorporeal.

- -

In the middle of the night at the manor house, Narcissa arched her hips wanting to be even closer to her husband. Lucius, eyes still closed. leaned over her his weight borne on his arms. His thrusts were hard almost frantic. He had awakened her with a hard squeeze of her breast and an insistent fondling below. Surprised but pleased, she returned his actions discovering that he was more than ready for more. She welcomed her husband into her embrace. He didn't kiss her. Instead he aroused her to a fever pitch by suckling, laving and nipping at her breasts while his hand incited erotic responses between her thighs. It wasn't long before she was more than ready herself.

Now she gripped his forearms lost to sensation parrying and thrusting back keeping the primitive rhythm going between them. He said no words but let the demands of his body speak for him as he availed himself of her flesh with teeth-jarring force. She found herself responding to the harsh treatment needing more of it as her peak approached. He obliged her need and her cries grew fervent. Her nails raked a trail down his back but he felt nothing. Nothing but the manic joy of release. With a final deep thrust, Narcissa found her pleasure and Lucius ground into her hard and deep. His arms gave out and he laid atop her breathing hard. She cradled his head as it rested on her chest running her hands through his hair murmuring those words too private for other ears but her husband's.

- -

In the middle of the night at the gray farmhouse, Voldemort let out a hoarse cry at the culmination of a too vivid dream. As he lay there, hot, sweaty and tangled in his sheets, he marvelled that everything was definitely in working order. He settled back to dream again. Once was not going to be enough.

- -

Lucius stirred. His hands traced down the length of his wife's long, shapely legs. He dropped kisses on her belly as he moved lower settling himself between her spread thighs. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating and he dipped and caressed her there. She gripped the sheets gasping his name over and over as he took her offering.

Their passion went on all night each taking turns pleasuring the other.. The next day found them with their arms around each other spoon fashion. Lucius remembered snatches of what happened. He looked down at his sleeping wife. There were few times he felt completely happy. This was one of those times when he could look and marvel at the woman who had defied her family to marry him. She was so precious to him. He was going to do it - show her entire family that they were wrong about him. He was going to shower Narcissa with honor and riches beyond imagining. He would see to it and nothing was going to stop him.


	14. The Word of the Elves

**Chapter 14  
_The Word of the Elves_**

There they lay as the dead. Some shrouded in white, others in blood red. For each body, there were two or four desperate to heal and comfort. Again and again, body after body, they plied their learned arts. Results were mixed, success elusive. Yet, they kept on chanting their bits of wisdom knowing that time heals all wounds..

"The foot bone's connected to the ankle bone," said the medic corp house elves in unison as Hagrid had taught them. They could not be faulted for their honest efforts as they continued to chant and warble while attending to their pretend patients. "The ankle bone's connected to the leg bone."

Dobby hovered around Harry making sure none of the medics inadvertently harmed his friend. Harry was splattered with fake blood in strategic places courtesy of Hermione. Being a charter member of SPEW, he was obliged to act as surrogate patient in exchange for transfiguration homework help so here he was in an empty classroom on a Sunday afternoon along with Ron and Hermione. But they were joined by several new members of SPEW - Justin Finch-Fletchley, Lavendar Brown, Dean Thomas, the Patil twins, Ernie Macmillan, Seamus Finnigan, and, surprisingly, Millicent Bulstrode. They talked among themselves while the elves practiced bandaging and basic non-magical first aid.

"The leg bone's connected to the knee bone."

"- told me that Professor Snape had fallen head over heels in love and was now chasing the unfortunate woman across several continents." said Parvati. An elf fitted a neck brace around her neck..

"Why are we doing this again, Hermione?" Ron whined keeping both arms outstretched as two elves wound some bandages around each of his arms from wrist to shoulder.

"Harry, are you going to sign up for Hooch's new flying acrobatics class?" asked Dean.

"The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone."

"Well, it's all part of their training, you see. House elves need to have skills if they're to make a living on their own someday." Hermione explained. An elf was attempting to "cure" her sprained ankle. The elf at her elbow visibly shuddered at the mere hint of freedom.

"That's not what I heard," answered Lavender reclining to let an elf wound bandages around her pseudo head wound while blood trickled down her face. Hermione had assured her that the blood was just a temporary glamour spell and would wear off in an hour. Trust Hermione to prefer realism even in practice, she thought. "I heard that he had gotten someone in trouble, in the worst way imaginable, and was now on the run."

"The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone."

"Name's already on the list, Dean, looks like it's going to be a lot of fun." Harry managed to say through a bandage wrapped around his jaw.

"A woman together with Professor Snape. I can't see it. " Justin observed. His face was plastered with small bandages as an elf picked out debris and shrapnel from his face and neck. " I don't want to see it."

"Ernie, want to make a bet on the outcome of the Chudley Cannons and London Flyers game?" asked Ron.

"The hip bone's connected to the back bone."

"I'm not believing anything until I see it on the front page of the Prophet," said Seamus who was in an immobilizing arm cast. "Besides, I heard that it's more likely that he poisoned someone and that someone is after him, so he left."

"I talked to Madam Hooch and she said that the elective was so popular, Dumbledore is considering making it a permanent part of the curriculum," Dean supplied. One of his arms was in a sling and the elves were working on his bloody knees.

"The back bone's connected to the shoulder bone."

"The Flyers are a sure thing, Ron. They demolished Pickwick last week." Ernie said looking on as an elf used a makeshift splint on his gory, broken leg. The bit of bone protuding out his skin was realistic enough to make him feel nauseous. He looked away quickly.

"Millicent, he's your house head, do you know where he is, what he's doing." asked Padma.

"The shoulder bone's connected to the neck bone."

"I know one thing if he did poison someone, no one would ever be able to trace it back to him." Millicent answered while having her wrist wrapped. "As for a woman being involved, possible, but who would know for sure? He keeps that to himself. Dumbledore came to our common room and said that he would be back in a few days as he had some personal matters to attend to."

"I'll put a sickle on the Cannons, Ernie." Ron was swaying and bobbing his head in rhythm to the elves' song. He'd never heard it before and it was rather catchy in elvish acapella.

"- said that we would learn synchronized group flying," Harry commented.

" ... maybe someone tried to poison him and he's writhing in agony somewhere," Lavender considered her conjecture to be highly plausible given how many times she herself had wished Snape dead and/or in agony over the last few years.

"The neck bone's connected to the head bone."

"You're on, Ron. I'll put a sickle on the Flyers!"

"I got it! He spurned some woman who poisoned him, so that if she couldn't have him, she decided that no one else would!" said Parvati. "He's off finding an antidote before it's too late!"

"That is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard!" Hermione exclaimed her disbelief more than evident. All other side conversations stopped as they turned to look at her. _What outlandish tales had Neville spread about? _"I can't see anyone mindlessly pining after Professor Snape out of true love, especially any sane, sensible woman."

"Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around in dem bones!"

"Love doesn't always make sense, Hermione," said Padma. "I may be a Ravenclaw but even I have to admit that romantic love is definitely not logical or sensible."

Let's see what you do when it happens to you, Ms Granger." Lavender added.

"Behold! Our practical Hermione brought low by love." Seamus stood up and took the arm cast off. As a bard of old telling his tale, he struck a pose looking off in the distance, hands clasped together anxiously. As he spoke he moved about and gestured as if he were Hermione all aflutter with love. "She saw her beloved glide across the room towards her. The room was crowded but her eyes were for him alone. She trembled in anticipation shivering with need to feel his powerful arms about her.

He paused leaned his head back slightly and put his right hand to his forehead as if moments from a full swooning faint. "But, alas, he passed her by, for his desire was not for her but for another."

Seamus straightened up and with a determined look continued. "Crushed but not defeated, she turned away taking solace in the knowledge that her love for him was neverending. Her love was agony. Her love was ecstacy. Her love was truth. She would wait for him, for someday, she knew, they would be together. It would be their destiny and their joy!" With that, Seamus sighed dramatically, crossed his arms, sank to his knees and bowed his head low.

The impromptu performance was greeted with applause, whistles and much laughter. Hermione was laughing the hardest of them all. When she got her breath back, she said "My God! If I ever behave that way, Seamus, you have my permission to commit me to St. Mungo's with as much haste as possible. In fact, you may use SPEW funds for just that purpose. When I fall in love, truly in love, it will be heart, body, soul and a fully engaged mind, thank you very much."

"Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around in dem bones! Oh, hear the word of the elves! Dem bones!"

- - -

THWACK! The arrow embedded itself into the tree with a very satisfying report. In quick succession, the tree trunk was covered with more arrows of various lenghts and styles. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Close by, a tall, dark-haired, slim woman, clad in a leather jacket over blue jeans and a black t-shirt, was bent over a strange contraption of wood and metal. After a few adjustments, several more arrows shot out with far more accuracy and power than the first attempts.

"Gol, that's impressive, that is!" said Hagrid. He had helped Madam Pince set up the contraption for some target practice as well as provide guide services in the dark forest.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I got the idea from your crossbow," Pince said. "It's an adaptation of a medieval ballista with a few magical modifications. I'd like to see a wizard fight off spells and physical weapons at the same time coming from multiple directions."

"Looks powerful enough to me. 'Course, there might be some things bigger 'an a wizard sent to us," Hagrid observed. The first drops of rain started to sprinkle down and the wind picked up ever slighly. "Hmmm... best be headin' back now."

"This is just a prototype, a sample. The real ones will have to be much larger." Pince added. She put an invisibility charm, an anti -rain spell and a levitating spell on the miniature ballista and both headed back to Hogwarts walking quickly. "I was wondering do you think the centaurs would consent to building our version using this model as a guide."

"Canna hurt to ask," said Hagrid. "We can pay them a visit later tonight and ask."

"That would be fine. I've never met a centaur before," Pince admitted. "Reading about them is rather inadequate preparation to meeting one in person."

"They're all right. Just nod yer head a lot when they start talkin' 'bout stars and such," Hagrid advised. "Aren't you supposed to be resting? You were on the sitting schedule last night you must be tired?"

"A little, but there's so much to do. Compared to Poppy or Cera, I'm not busy at all so I help them out whenever they need me." Pince explained. "Running a library isn't as tiring as a keeping the infirmary or teaching classes."

"Well, we all have to be careful 'bout burning ourselves out only to have nothin' left when it really matters." Said Hagrid wisely. "You can only prepare yourself so much."

"Wise advise, Hagrid." Said Pince taking two steps to every one of Hagrid's giant strides.

"Ah, it's only common sense, Lenore. You hafta be strong to win battles, but only the ones that can last are gonna be around to win the war." Hagrid replied. "And we gotta last."

"There's so few of us against so many." She kept her wand hand on the leviated ballista and stuffed the other in a jacket pocket. "The odds are -"

"There's enough, if we're smart 'bout things," he commented. "That's what Dumbledore says, make small mistakes not big ones."

"Speaking of small things, how are your elf medics doing?" she asked.

"Fine, doing fine. That song you found fer me really helped. The charts were confusin' 'em but the bit 'bout the bones they got right quick," Hagrid replied. "Now, if I can only get 'em to use your transport system. They don't ken to the idea much."

"I don't blame them. It's works very differently than what they're used to. Not even all the teachers know how to use it." She said. "Tell you what. In exchange for helping me with the centaurs, I'll help you with the elf transport problem. Is it a deal?"

"It's a deal." They shook hands. They were halfway to the castle when the rain turned into a serious downpour. Pince plucked a leaf off a plant and transfigured it into a gigantic umbrella. Hagrid held it aloft. They certainly made a strange sight as they approached the castle.

- - -

Pots clanged, pans sizzled and knives chopped away merrily in the Weasley family kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was preparing for lunch. She was floating on a cloud of maternal bliss at the moment. Her oldest son had come for a visit and hinting that they may be seeing more of him. She floated the food out and settled them on the long trencher table in the dining room. Arthur, Bill and Percy were already gathered and waiting.

"This visit is a bit of surprise, Bill," asked Mr. Weasley.

"But we are not complaining," added Mrs. Weasley.

"It really was a spur of the moment decision. Came to mind that I had a lot of unused vacation. With a lot of us being reassigned, I thought I'd take my days off now before my new assignment comes in," Bill explained.

"Any idea where you're going to be sent to?" his father inquired.

Bill took a deep breath before he said. "I've actually asked for a posting here in England. Glastonbury maybe."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Bill, dear. Finally, I won't worry about you being so far away doing such dangerous things," exclaimed Molly Weasley.

"There is another offer, I'm thinking about that's closer to home, mum. Professor Dumbledore has asked to me to fill in as assistant teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the year. Strictly temporary and -"

"When do you start?" Percy inquired eagerly. He was glad that his brother was taking a more visible career which could only help the family in the long run.

"I haven't accepted yet. It's a lot more responsibility than I'm used to. I've worked alone for so long." said Bill passing around the second course.

"Assistant? Who's the primary DADA teacher, then?" asked Mr. Weasley food forgotten as he thought about this latest information.

"Don't know. Dumbledore won't say."

"You must accept, dear. What an honor! First head boy now a professor," Mrs. Weasley radiated so much happiness and approval she fairly glowed. "And you couldn't be safer than at Hogwarts."

"You know, Bill, you could be the one to break the curse on that job. It is what you do." Chuckled Percy. "I say take it. Offers like that don't happen very often."

"Dad, what do you think I should do?"

"Since it's only temporary, take it and see if you like it. You may be surprised. Dumbledore will be there to guide you." Mr. Weasley advised.

"I promised to let him know my answer tomorrow. I'll think about it tonight."

"I can't imagine you living at the castle like the other teachers do. Too confining." Percy observed.

"That's what I thought too. Dumbledore suggested that I stay in Hogsmeade and just go to Hogwarts when I have classes and such."

"That's unusual," said Mr. Weasley. "I think I'll have a chat with Albus tomorrow."

"Oh, I have packages and things from Ron and Ginny, Mum," Bill reached into the chair next to him. He handed one rolled parchment to his mother, another to his father and a bundle for Percy.

Mrs. Weasley unrolled her parchment. "Oh, my word! Ron ... Ron got top marks on a poetry essay. He's finally taking his homework seriously. What does yours say, dear?"

"It seems that Ginny has shown marked improvement in potions," Mr. Weasley peered down at the signature. "It's not from Severus. Eve Delacour, name sounds familiar."

"Delacour? One of the contestants at the Trr-Wizards Cup was Fleur Delacour, maybe a relation." Percy commented opening his package from Ron. Inside, he found his favorite treats - sugar quills from Honeydukes.

"Eve is Fleur's sister. She's teaching -" Bill started to say.

"Eve?" asked Percy his tone conveying far more than what he actually said. Both Percy and their father looked at Bill questioningly.

"Eve is a graduate student assisting Professor Snape in potions. She's going to be assisting for the rest of the year." Bill whipped back. His countenance was completely innocent but it didn't fool the Weasley men at all.

"I see," said Mr. Weasley smiling. "If I remember correctly, Fleur Delacour was half veela."

"Well, seems like we do have a teacher in the family now," Percy gave Bill an all too knowing smile.

- -

Demos peered out the corridor looking left then right. Not seeing anyone, he cautiously left the dungeons staying in the shadows. At the first picture, an older man in spectacles, he made his request. "Please inform the headmaster and the heads of houses that the fruit of blessing is here."

The picture communications network began passing the message along until it got to the headmaster and heads of houses by picture or ghost messenger. Demos went first to the infirmary in search of Professor Sprout. He wanted to deliver the news personally. He quickly found the herbology professor in the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey sifting and analyzing more of Professor Snape's test results.

"It's here, Professor, the fruit," he said.

"What does it look like?!" Pomfrey asked excitedly.

"Never mind that, let's go take a look for ourselves!" Sprout cried and all three of them headed for the dungeons.

They met up with Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall impatiently standing by the Tree of Blessings. There on a low branch, just hanging there, was a large fruit so deeply red it seemed almost black.

"Well, Cera, you have the first honor," Dumbledore was smiling but his eyes were teary with relief. The first fruit was never a true certainty. Now that it was here and earlier than expected, they all knew that the tree was thriving, healthy, and, if given time to mature would protect Hogwarts for as long as it bore fruit. As to what properties the fruit actually had, they would find that out soon enough.

Professor Sprout steadied herself released her companion and cast a suspension spell around her companion. Her companion entered the field and neatly severed the fruit off the branch. The fruit hung behind the companion as it returned to Professor Sprout. The suspension spell allowed the fruit to pass through the barrier. As it floated in the center of those gathered, they held their hands out towards it feeling the warmth that emanated from it as well as see the glow it was emitting.

Professor McGonagall conjured a plate while Professor Sprout began to cast spells to pare the skin off and slice the fruit into pieces. The pared skin continued to glow and it crackled with energy.. As the fruit was sliced, a sweet citrusy aroma filled the air. The meat of the fruit did not glow but instead looked very much like pink grapefruit. Sprout, Flitwick, Dumbledore and McGonagall each took a slice. Madam Pomfrey abstained watching carefully ready to assist if anything strange happened. They hoisted the slices to each other as if in a toast before taking a small bite. Each of them finished their slices beaming at each other none the worse for wear.

"Delicious. Here, Poppy, have a slice," said Sprout offering the plate to Pomfrey.

"Not just yet. I'd like to observe you all for a few minutes more." Pomfrey replied.

"Sweet and tangy at the same time - just the right balance," McGonagall observed.

Flitwick smacked his lips. "And juicy, too."

"It looks like there will be enough for every one to have a slice," Dumbledore looked closely at the fruit. The peelings were still glowing and crackling.

Demos peered at the fruit, the slices and the peelings. Sprout's companion was also hovering close to the peelings. The companion experimentally touched a peeling and for a moment it glowed bright as the noonday sun. Then, the companion started to whirl around the room leaving a trail of rainbow colors. After that little display, the other companions were released by their hosts and given a chance to "taste." The companions darted about leaving streams of color in their wake. Their hosts laughed at their antics.

Demos advanced closer himself. He solidified and took one of the peelings and made a fist around it. Nothing happened for a moment or two. Then his whole body started to flash gray, then black then gray then back to black again while at the same time rapidly shifting from transparent to solid. He stopped shifting after a few minutes.

"Demos? Are you all right?" Pomfrey asked.

"Ah, yes. Just ... I am all right," Demos was rubbing his fingers together and touching his face.

"Feel any different?" asked McGonagall.

"Yes ... no. I felt strange while I was shifting." Demos began to try shifting and was able to materialize through walls as normal. He seemed as his usual self. "Like it was not me ... but different. He never told me ... made me think I was ..."

"Who never told you what?" Sprout queried.

"Nothing. It's not. never mind." Demos replied. "I have questions for Severus. Many questions."

Seeing that no one had suffered any surprise ill effects, Pomfrey took a slice herself. Pince and Hagrid came in breathlessly. "The Gray Lady just told us the news," said Pince. She and Hagrid both took a slice from the tray that Sprout was passing around.

"Marvelous!" remarked Pomfrey slowly savoring the flavor.

Hagrid popped the slice straight into his mouth. "Really good."

"The taste . it tastes like a cross of tangerines and pears." Pince murmured.

"Well, we may now consider the tree of blessings an absolute success. Cera, this ... this is your crowning achievement," Albus declared the sentiment in a voice choked with emotion. The others clapped and cheered. The remaining fruit was put in the Eyrie so everyone could get a slice.

- -

The formal ball hosted at the Ministry that Sunday night in honor of some foreign dignitary was splendidly overblown. In attendance were the best sort of people socially, people in the highest of government positions and those who aspired to one day belong in the former two groups. Cornelius Fudge held court in one corner of the ballroom pontificating about some new amendments being bandied about to protect wizards and witches of muggle descent.

"It smacks of special treatment, I say." William Douglas remarked. Lucius Malfoy stood elegant as always to his right. Douglas had taken great pains with his appearance tonight. Crimping and hoarding his salary for a month in order to buy a custom fitted robe just for this ocassion. He fancied that though he could never reach the heights of sartorial elegance as his generous benefactor, he was a cut above the rest, especially Percy Weasley.

"There are more and more muggle borns every year. Most of them know nothing of our world and should not be expected to at the beginning." Percy Weasely pointed out.

"They should adjust to us not the other way around." Douglas continued. "Is it fair to impose limitations on the rest of us while we wait for muggle borns to catch up? I think not."

"It is scientific fact that it takes at least 2 generations for a muggle born witch or wizard to become fully acclimatized to our world," Percy Weasely pointed out calmly but firmly. He refused to lose this argument to some pandering social climber whom he had heard Douglas to be from the overactive Ministry staff grapevine. "At Hogwarts, the muggle borns did as well as the magic folk. In fact, I think the muggle borns tried harder than the rest of us. Even now the top scores for the fifth year class belongs to a muggle born."

"Hogwarts can hardly serve as a barometer of social conditions, Weasley." Douglas countered. "The classroom is no substitute or comparison for the real world."

"Hogwarts has the highest enrollment of muggle borns this side of the Atlantic." Lucius interjected. He stifled a yawn barely. He wasn't as completely exhausted as before but neither was he back to normal. The pepper up potion only helped a little. He scanned the room for Narcissa and saw her chatting with Genevieve Longbottom and the other society ladies. Perhaps, another hour more before they could depart.

"There, it's already skewed to the muggle borns. How can it be fair?" said Douglas.

"Hogwarts has the highest enrollment because the other schools like Beauxbaton or Durmstrang refuse to teach more than their lawfully mandated quota. Dumbledore, and rightly so, believes that every child with magical ability needs to be taught and trained no matter what their heritage." Percy was controlling his temper but he had a fight on his hands. "Besides, it also has the highest overall enrollment. Things do even out."

"Hogwarts also gives out an inordinate amount of scholarships. Three to one for muggle borns," said Lucius watching Douglas' reaction. He was not disappointed as Douglas flushed red and his eyes flashed with anger and remembered disappointment.

"Muggles still don't understand magic. Those children who want to go to Hogwarts are sometimes physically denied a return to their homes and families. Scholarships assure that those who fall in that category can continue their education. Surely, an educated wizard or witch who can contribute to our society is much preferred over an ignorant one." Percy shot back. No one, not even Lucius Malfoy, was going to get away with disparaging comments about his alma mater.

"What about those of wizards blood who are themselves financially incapable of attending Hogwarts? Don't they get some priority? You cannot support one side wholeheartedly and ignore the other." Douglas said.

"It's not a matter of choosing one side or the other. That's not the point. Scholarships go to the those who need it most. As Head Boy, I participated in the meetings to allocate those same scholarships. I can tell you that they were not just handed out. Each candidate, both wizard and muggle, were screened and analyzed painstakingly." Percy continued on bravely. "And, scholarships are limited by budgetary concerns. So, even if someone was completely qualified on every level, that doesn't mean they'll get a scholarship."

"Mr. Weasley is correct on that last point. Budget constraints have indeed cut into the number of scholarships this year. It's down by thirty percent from last year if I'm not mistaken." Fudge said. "But let us move on to less lofty topics, shall we? Time enough to debate the amendment over the next few days."

- -

The office was dim. A lone brazier cast a halo of light near the door. Hermione said the lumos spell. As she finished saying the word, she spied movement near the large desk in the center of the room. She was immediately on guard retrieving her wand from her pocket and with a flick of her wrist pointed it unerringly in the vicinity of the desk. It's almost eleven o'clock there shouldn't be anyone here, she thought. _How did he get through Snape's wards?_ Spell Tag-honed reflexes propelled her to move, anywhere, just move, move, move. "You! Stay where you are!"

Demos rose from the chair. He walked around to the side of the chair. "Wait, -"

"I said not to move!" Demos heard the firm tone of command in the young lady's voice. He walked a step closer keeping his hands outstretched palms open.

"Petrificus Totalis!" The spell had no effect. Hermione frowned at her wand shook it a few times and tried again. "Stupefy! Suspenso corpore!"

Demos kept his arms outstretched and hands open to show that. The girl was not showing signs of relenting as she shouted a barrage of spells at him while she moved towards the light. Sparks of energy bounced off him as her spells found their target. He watched her watching him. As the light illuminated her face, he recognized her. "Put the wand down, Ms Granger."

"Professor Snape?" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief which turned into annoyance in less than an eye blink. "Why didn't you say it was you!? You were deliberately trying to give me heart failure! Really, a little more consideration, I am doing you a favor after all coming to - "

"I am not the professor." Demos emerged out of the darkness to stand in the periphery of the light just enough to make very obvious that he was not Snape or that he was even human. Her eyes grew wide as he revealed more of himself to her. "Please, I won't harm you. Be calm."

She wanted to run. Her legs wouldn't obey. She wanted to scream. Her mouth was silent. She wanted to cast a spell. Her mind was blank. She prayed she would faint but found no gods in the mood to listen. She stood her ground facing the unknown monster in front of her. It had the shape of a man but completely black. She could just about see right through him. It had sounded just like Professor Snape! That thought jarred her out of her paralysis. "Who ... who are you? What are you?"

"My name is Demos. I am Severus' shadow." Demos said. "You may think of me as his companion."

"P...P ...Professor McGonagall said that Professor Snape had a companion but you don't look anything like the other companions do."

"Severus tells me that I was not made as the others," Demos informed her. "I don't know what I am exactly. I'm me, just me."

"How do you know who I am?" Hermione still couldn't move but thought she'd keep talking to buy some time for her to recover her senses. "I know I've never met you. You would be hard to forget."

Demos lit several more braziers. He took a seat by the cold hearth and motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite him. She sank into the armchair feeling all the panic-induced adrenalin rush out of her. " I know that you work with Severus in the Club. I have learned to recognize most of the students at Hogwarts since I started doing Severus' nightly patrols. I remember you in greenhouse four indulging in a common human ritual with -"

"Stop! Fine, you know me ... all right." Hermione interrupted him not wanting to confront memories best left forgotten and left to rot in the far reaches of her mind. She pointed at the hearth and spelled a roaring fire to crackling life. "You're supposed to be here then but why were you in the dark?"

"Just thinking,." Demos said.

"Voice, looks, brooding in the dark, check. Shadow is a good description. You sound so much like him and up close you even have his profile, especially the nose, mouth and the chin."

"The professors say that I look like Severus when he first started to teach at Hogwarts."

"He must have been very young when he started here." Hermione filed away that bit of trivia for later research. "You're not like anything I've ever read about. I don't remember reading about shadows quite like you. How did the Professor make you?"

"I remember only a few things about my making. You would have to ask Severus about me." Demos smiled before continuing. " I am glad to know that I am seemingly unique."

"A touch of the same ego," While they talked, Hermione had been peering closer at Demos noting that he seemed to have better defined features than she had previously thought. The planes of his face were chiselled and plain to see. If one looked long enough one could see the rises, valleys and lines defining his neck, shoulder, chest, collarbone and arms. He seemed to her a dark statue but this statue had the added bonus of sentience and mobility.

"Eeeh-go? What is eeeh-go?"

"It means a sense of your own importance or worthiness," she informed him.

"Is it good or bad?"

"It depends on the person or being. Ego is good if that person has knowledge or experience to support his attitude. Professor Snape certainly has the credentials to be egotistical about his craft. I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. Are you solid or not?"

Instead of answering, Demos stretched his arm out. Hermione ran a cautious hand over the forearm. In front of her eyes, her fingers seemed to go through his dark texture. She gasped in delight as Demos slowly solidified while flexing his hands. The hand underneath her probing fingers was warm and firm. Experimentally, she pressed into his arm feeling smooth bunched muscles underneath. "Amazing! So you can go solid or transparent at will?"

"I can maintain a completely solid shape for only a short time. Then I feel tired and must go back to my natural state."

"And you weren't affected by my spells," Hermione examined his fingers and twined it around her own.

"Most spells I do not feel at all. But Severus told me that I would definitely feel the stronger, darker magics." Demos said. "He was proven correct. When we met with Voldemort, I was very -"

"You ... you met with Voldemort?! You were with the professor?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, hidden. The headmaster thought that if difficulties arise I could at least provide a distraction allowing Severus to escape." Demos supplied.

"Hidden?"

"I can merge myself into Severus' body. In fact, after my rounds tonight I will be merging back with him."

This last bit of information left Hermione speechless. Information overload tends to do that to people. "I cannot stay unmerged for too long as it causes Severus some pain the longer we are not merged. I reached my record today - six hours unmerged."

"You're more than just a shadow, Demos. This is unbelievable, absolutely incredible. And you go with him everywhere even in class?"

"In the past, yes, we have been merged while teaching. While I am merged with him I get impressions of the outside world. We do not share consciousness so I do not see from his eyes completely."

"He controls you?"

"It is better to say that we coexist. We can and do take turns controlling the other letting the other rest for a while." Demos stood up realizing that his inner timesense told him that it was almost midnight. "Humans need their rest too, Ms Granger. It is very late for you."

"Oh, right. Professor Snape asked me to get something for him that's why I came down here." Hermione explained. She walked over to the large desk. She opened the upper right hand drawer. There the envelope lay as if waiting for her. She slipped it into her pocket. "Here it is. One more question, Demos, then I'll go. Can he summon you and are you aware of him all the time?"

"I am aware when he has great need of me. I am aware of his general health. But I cannot summon the professor to me. That limitation does not apply to Severus. He can summon me to come to him whenever and wherever he chooses." Together they left and locked Professor Snape's office.

Demos escorted Hermione out of the dungeons and made sure she got to Gryffindor tower. She watched fascinated as he materialized in and out of walls. She noticed that the sleeping pictures were not aware of him whenever he happened to pass through one.

Hermione paused in the hallway just out of sight of the portrait lady. "Thank you. You've given me a lot of think about."

"As you I. May we talk again?"

"Sure. Let's not make it so late though. We have to keep up appearances."

"As you wish it. Good night, Ms Granger." Demos merged into a wall and disappeared. Hermione went on, said the password and disappeared into the tower.

Unbeknownst to either Demos or Hermione, someone had accidentally overheard their conversation but had not seen them. This someone quickly made its way out of its hiding place to peer at the now empty hallway then turned to seek its own bed muttering as it went. "What's the mudblood doing with Snape? Snape is still here at Hogwarts. What is this leave of absence really about?"


	15. Chapter 15

In One Spirit - Chapter 15  
  
By mavidian  
  
Shingle by shingle, the warm orange rays of daybreak creeped up the sides of the little gray farmhouse stripping the house of its glaze of early morning frost. In time, the light fell in through the now wide open windows. Cold invigorating air flooded the once stifling space banishing the rancid, malodorous heat. Inside, cool vapor swirled about a clean, spartan room. The earthen floor was freshly packed unmarked by sorcerous symbols. A large mouse-sated snake sat compactly coiled directly in front of the fireplace where a rousing fire held the cold air at bay.  
  
Nearby, Peter Pettigrew poured hot tea for both himself and his lord. The bags under his bloodshot eyes testified to his restless night. He had tried the strongest sleeping draught he could find but his body had twitched and jerked about all night. Sometime before dawn, the palsy had subsided and he had been able to get a few hours of sleep before his lord's summoning. If Wormtail looked frazzled, his lord gave the impression of newfound vigor as he consumed a breakfast fit for two.  
  
"Excellent fare, Wormtail," Voldemort praised tucking into his kippers with enthusiasm. Wormtail had nearly dropped his bundles upon his arrival when he was greeted by his lord dressed in muggle clothing with what had to be a glamour charm masking his normally snakelike features. Voldemort looked almost normal. "You don't look well, Wormtail, have you been taking care of yourself?"  
  
"I am not ill, my lord, just tired. I don't seem to be sleeping well lately and I have . have nightmares." Wormtail replied while buttering a muffin.  
  
"Really, what kind of nightmares?" Voldemort sipped his tea enjoying the way it seared his lips and tongue. Every new sensation was a wondrous new experience as his senses slowly improved.  
  
"Strange, inconsequential dreams. As if I was being chased and I ran and ran. But in the end, I was devoured no matter what I did. Then I would wake up and the dream would start all over again." Pettigrew eyes grew vacant as he remembered his nocturnal adventures.  
  
"Hmmm. Have you tried sleeping draughts, Peter?" Voldemort added Wormtail's experience to his series of mental research notes.  
  
"I have for the last few nights. The strongest I could find were -" said Pettigrew.  
  
"Well, those commercial ones won't do. Ask Severus. He has an original potion he calls the Sweet Sleep and it is very effective. You'll feel like a new man the next day. Tell him I said to make several for you." Voldemort instructed.  
  
"Thank you, I'll do so once Snape comes back from his leave of absence."  
  
"What leave of absence?" Voldemort lost his indolent posture fixing an intent look on his disciple.  
  
"The Malfoy boy owled Lucius on Saturday that Dumbledore made the announcement at breakfast. Slytherin house was told that Professor Snape was taking a short leave to attend to some personal matters." Wormtail said the words carefully and succinctly. "It seems that he has left Hogwarts."  
  
"Severus has not informed me of this. It must be his father's health. Yes, that must be it." Voldemort postulated.  
  
"What's wrong with his father?"  
  
"It is easier to say what isn't wrong with him. The Snape males do not as a whole live to old age." Voldemort explained. "Severus explained it to me once before. The family has an inherited malady that over time, certain males of the line seem to lose their magical powers leaving them as little better than muggles. His father has suffered in the advanced stages of this illness. Severus is the only heir and has taken in hand many of his sire's responsibilities. Because of that, I try to put the least burden on his time and resources."  
  
"I see, my lord, a very wise and considerate decision," said Wormtail.  
  
"I hope you do see, Wormtail. Severus serves as he must and as he can. Now, I have a task for you." Voldemort said. "Get some sleep for the rest of the morning then in the afternoon I want you to secure some office space in London. Not too posh but very professional in a high visibility location."  
  
"An office for what, my lord?"  
  
"We are creating a legitimate business, Wormtail, catering to both muggle and wizarding customers in need of the services of a superlative travel agency." Voldemort explained. "New Day Travel it is to be called."  
  
"Very well, I will register it in the usual manner as a division of the Malfoy interests and -"  
  
"No, Wormtail, not this time. This new company must have no obvious connection to the Malfoys that the Ministry could uncover. We, the two of us, will set up this company ourselves in our new identities. You have two days to get the business operational."  
  
"It will be done, milord," Pettigrew smiled confidently. He had used muggle sources to create two new documented identities for him and his lord last year complete with immigration papers and bank accounts. These identities were known only to the two of them. His work was finally making an impact.  
  
"Now, why don't you have your rest here, Peter. Nagini will protect you. I need to walk about. It is a fine morning for a short hike." Voldemort rose and shrugged a coat and scarf on. Wormtail climbed gratefully into bed and succumbed to exhaustion immediately. Voldemort closed the windows and drew the curtains closed. He covered his hairless head with a hat drawing the brim lower to further shade his features and left the house.  
  
- * -  
  
The headmaster looked around the Great Hall as he ate breakfast eyeing each and every student from fifth year to seventh year with equal regard. Collectively, the seventh years all looked worn and ragged around the edges. Too many sleepless nights studying for NEWTs, he thought. The Christmas break would not come soon enough for them. The sixth years had acquired the air of absent-minded rumpled civility common to young people who suddenly realized that the dreaded NEWTs had taken wing and were now circling their lives like vultures salivating at future carrion. He heard many sixth years comment on the highly specialized bent their classes had taken and more than a few switched specialties midyear.  
  
His gaze then fell on his most idealistic and impressionable class - the fifth years. They had neither the suppressed panic of the seventh years nor the sixth years' resigned acceptance of the inevitable. The fifth year as a group still had that indefinable bounce of the child in their hearts matched by the volatility of adolescence while their forms and figures hinted of coming adulthood. Their preparation for and performance on the upcoming OWLs would say much about each of them and their prospects in subsequent years. He and the other house heads wholeheartedly agreed with Snape that it was the fifth years that needed the most attention and care. Thinking about his ailing potions master brought his mind to a conversation with a very old friend and colleague only hours old.  
  
Rapier thin, intense of eye and face, with a trimmed beard of gray and a head of thinning salt and pepper hair, he was not what one expected of someone more than five hundred years old. Nicholas Flamel placed the thick, bound book unto the headmaster's desk. "Albus, this young man hath found a way to trespass through hell, yet his soul he has kept to his breast, bruised but untainted. Truly, the risks one indulges in when youth is at one's free disposal."  
  
"Did you find anything useful among Severus' notes, Nicholas?" Dumbledore sat behind his desk stroking Fawkes' feathers.  
  
"Oh, many things, but none form a singular piece. Ideas I have but solutions have not yet come to hand or mind," Nicholas said placing the heavy book on Dumbledore's desk.  
  
"Time is running out. Poppy calculates that at the rate his genetics are changing, we have less than three months before it becomes irrevocably permanent."  
  
"That is in agreement with my own assessment. What is his condition now?" Flamel stood in front of Dumbledore's desk with arms crossed.  
  
"Unchanged for the most part though he drifts from lucidity to mild hallucinations as a result of all the medications being used. It has been hard on the minders by his bed to hear his memories and sometimes to see them unfold before them as his mind projects them outward. The horrific, damning ones far outnumber the happy and joyful. " The headmaster stood and placed Fawkes back on his perch. He then sat on the edge of his desk beside another old friend. "According to Poppy, he is over the worse part but after that she is at a loss on how to proceed."  
  
"Albus, I tell you truth, were it only the involvement of demons, I could devise a palliative then a cure. But, this mark. this mark and the method of its creation complicates matters. I fear that the genetic transference is too far advanced to eradicate. Though I believe that it may be possible to arrest its further development."  
  
"Do what you can to help him. I need him, Nicholas," Albus pleaded. "I need him to protect Harry when I will no longer be able to."  
  
"There are others about, perhaps not nearly as powerful as a Snape, but just as capable, such as the Ollivanders or Minerva," Nicholas said.  
  
"I have charged Minerva and Flavius with the protection of Hogwarts in my place. It must be Severus as he is the best positioned in Voldemort's inner circle. I can trust Severus to assure that Harry is at the right place at the right time. I know he will do what must be done."  
  
"Is that a burden that sits well upon your chosen avenger or is it, as with all things, precariously dependent on the caprices of fate?" Flamel now sat in the armchair facing the headmaster. His eyes, focused and bright, made a lie of his relaxed posture.  
  
"It sits grudgingly but accepted," said Albus.  
  
"Of the Tradition, I expect no less," Nicholas said. "But this burden is grotesque in its implications."  
  
"You are starting to sound like Flavius. It is too late for lectures, Nicholas. I have heard them all and given most of them to myself. It is done."  
  
"True, Flavius can a most relentless prod of conscience be." Nicholas grinned. "Where is he about? You said he resides here."  
  
"He is. He and Minerva haven't returned from a night out on the town."  
  
"Indeed, the sun is almost risen, perhaps, this plague shall result in something good."  
  
"One man does not a plague make, Nicholas. Voldemort is -"  
  
"Is he not? History has passed before my senses, Albus, in ways beyond even your understanding. I have watched as Voldemort resurrected this cancer of hate and intolerance. A cancer I surmised to be in decline long before his first rising. But now I see it rooted and thriving once more in places high and low, far and near." Nicholas looked on his friend of many years trying his best to make his meaning clear to the younger man. "You are fighting one man yet the forces arrayed against you do not bleed, do not cry out in anger and see passing time not at all. How do you conquer an idea, Albus, after it has been uttered aloud?"  
  
"I can't. I don't intend to. I can only fight what is here and now while trusting that the future will be in better hands than mine." Albus countered. "People must realize the truth about Voldemort. He is not after universal power per se, nor does he see himself as a herald of a new age for our kind and only our kind though he styles himself as such. No, he craves recognition."  
  
"The very thought of his name invokes terror. What better recognition is there?" asked Flamel.  
  
"Yes, but Voldemort is his nom de guerre. He wants to be known by his true lineage, his true name. Tom Slytherin Marvolo Riddle was denied a name, denied a glorious birthright, abandoned to make a life on his own." Dumbledore explained. "But the boy . the boy, Nicolas, was blessed with intellect, ambition and charisma. He made the most of his scholarship here. Had either his mother or father's families shown an iota of concern or interest in him as a youth, I am convinced that he would not have become what he became. As a bastard, the family would never, could never publicly recognize him as blood to Salazar. What else could he do? He decided to force the issue himself, as was his right. He wants to be recognized as the heir and also respected for being the most powerful wizard of our times."  
  
"Yet another megalomaniac. It would be far more acceptable were he a monster in spite of his virtues not because of them." Flamel observed. " I recollect the clan Marvolo - collectively tenacious when given purpose and duty."  
  
"Tom is more determined this time around. But he has to rebuild all that he lost that night at Godric's Hollow - his body, his followers, base of operations, everything. It goes slowly but he is doing it." Said Dumbledore stroking his beard. "To that end his success hinges on two things - Hogwarts and Harry. The acquisition of one will give him unparalleled power. The death of the other will prove once and for all that no one can oppose him."  
  
"I see then the fulcrum resting on your prodigal potions master." Flamel said. "Timing will be crucial."  
  
"Harry will open the door to Voldemort's defeat but Severus, like Brutus was to Caesar, will wield the knife that proves the dark lord false. And it shall be the deepest, most disturbing cut of all." Dumbledore said gravely and finally.  
  
His thoughts turned once more to the present, as he looked at all the students table by table as well as the staff beside him. He felt a decided chill come upon his person. He would one day feel the cut of betrayal himself from a student in this very room today. Of this, Sybil Trelawney's prophecy was most insistent. Whether the deed was done willingly or unknowingly the prophecy did not make clear. Besides himself, only Hagrid and Madam Pince knew of this prophecy. They had witnessed Sybil having the prophecy in the staff room last year. He finished his breakfast resolved to do the most he could for loyalist and betrayer alike. Fate would take care of everything else.  
  
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron and Seamus were plotting some possible tactics against Professor McGonagall's orb attacks. They knew their head of house would keep her promise of surprise quizzes on the subject and they wanted to be prepared. Hermione had one on one tutoring sessions with them and now tactics were next on their preparation list.  
  
"It makes more sense for the things to chase us instead of us doing the chasing," Ron said moving some food dishes around to illustrate his point. "We can stand ready and just wait for them to come to us."  
  
"Yeah, and when they get near, cast our spells," Harry agreed. "Everyone has their list of spells in order. It's just a matter of casting them."  
  
"Well, those orbs move fast. It's going to be hard to hit them even if we were standing still." Said Seamus.  
  
"I don't know how Hermione can cast her spells so fast. I get the words mixed up in my head before they can reach my mouth," Ron said. "She does hers in one breath, practically."  
  
"Well, she was always a quick study, Ron. Remember how she got through Snape's logic puzzle?" Harry observed Hermione a few seats down talking animatedly with Neville. There was something different about her but he couldn't identify it. Come to think about it there was something going on with Neville too. He hadn't blown up a cauldron in days. Seeing the two of them together was making him feel slightly creepy. They still looked the same, talked the same. But they didn't join in with the usual Gryffindor activities as much as before. Hermione was easier to explain with her constant projects and extra studying. But lately every time he saw Neville he had his head in a book or scribbling madly on parchment. It seemed almost a competition between him and Hermione as to who could read the most books in one week. Then, Neville was always the first ready and fully awake in the morning. Seamus and Dean used to have to nag him out of bed. What was going on? "We need to practice our spell casting. Maybe have some mock games and we'll throw balls at each other."  
  
"Great idea, Harry. It's just the trick," Ron exclaimed.  
  
"I'll reserve us an empty classroom, say tomorrow tonight after dinner?" Seamus asked.  
  
"Yep, let's make a general announcement in the common room later," said Ron.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione and Neville again. He would make sure that both of his friends were at the practice tomorrow night and he would have a chance to talk to both of them. "I got a better idea. I'm going to ask Hooch if we can use the practice bludgers. They'll move around on their own without actually hitting anyone."  
  
"Oh yeah! That'll do great!" said Seamus. "We should be in pairs one bludger apiece."  
  
"A real test. Let's McGonagall do her worse!" Ron crowed. Harry left the table to go talk to Madam Hooch. He passed by Neville and Hermione on the way.  
  
"I'm up to two mile runs twice a day." Said Neville heaping a generous helping of scrambled eggs onto his plate.  
  
"I dread starting a running routine but I really should. It's supposed to be great for stress relief." Hermione commented taking a bite of toast.  
  
"Oh, my lungs were on fire and I was on my knees by the half mile point my first time out," Neville replied pouring himself a second tall glass of milk. "But you know he wouldn't let me quit. We half walked and half jogged the rest of the mile. I want to get to five miles eventually."  
  
"You know I had my misgivings about your, er, situation."  
  
"So did I, but I think it's what I needed. It feels right, anyway. What about you?" Neville stabbed another sausage and added it to his plate.  
  
"Honestly, I feel a bit out of my element sometimes like I'm still missing information. I know you know more than you're letting on. What's the big picture?" Hermione picked at her food.  
  
"I think we're making the big picture as we go along, Hermione. We have to learn to follow before we can lead." Neville said. "You know you really don't sound unsure of anything."  
  
"Thanks. I have so many questions I can't ask. How can they be so calm?" Hermione poured more tea for herself.  
  
"They have been through this before." Said Neville. "Listen, this isn't the place to talk. How about a study session? I have to give you library access, don't forget."  
  
"Yes! How about 9 tonight?" They both agreed to meet in the Eyrie later that night.  
  
- * -  
  
The realtor secretly hugged herself. The commission from this sale would set her well for the rest of the year. Her client seemed to love the office space - a small standalone office building with a storefront on the first floor and offices on the second and third floors in London's Notting Hill district. The building had been considered unsellable due to the exorbitant asking price.  
  
"Now, Ms Georges, when can I expect the paperwork? I will arrange a transfer of funds as soon as I receive the sales agreement." Peter Pettigrew asked.  
  
"I will have the paperwork tomorrow, Mr. Lowell. I can send it to you by courier. I would need Mr. Radcliffe's signature though."  
  
"Certainly, certainly. How about we all meet here tomorrow about 1pm?" Pettigrew smiled his most engaging smile.  
  
"Perfect. I'll see you then. Here's the key and you can just let yourself in."  
  
Pettigrew gallantly ushered her out and locked the door behind him. Before he went back to his lord, he had one more errand to run. He was going to look in on the Grangers.  
  
- * -  
  
Dumbledore, Ollivander and Madam Pomfrey shielded their eyes from the blaze of colorful, undulating waves of pure energy that encircled and levitated Severus Snape two meters above his sick bed. Nicholas Flamel squinted in concentration as he brought to bear his considerable expertise to the matter at hand - a thorough cleansing of Snape's physical matter of physical toxins as well as destructive remnants and impurities left by dark magic. Sweat beaded down his face as he sought to master the escalating powers he was commanding. The humming in the room increased and Pomfrey hugged her earmuffs to her head. Flamel slowly rotated Snape for the third time until he was face down. As he was turned like an animal on a rotisserie spit, Snape was fully conscious, eyes open, fists clenched fighting down the nausea that the aerial maneuvers were causing. His skin felt as if every pore he possessed was simultaneously subjected to a thousand needles pistoning in and out every second of time that passed. He would have screamed if he could.  
  
Poppy could make out dark blobs and droplets streaming out of her patient. As the shapes were ejected out of the pulsating field, they burst into flames, burned to cinders and fell like dust to the floor. She, Albus and Flavius stood in various corners of the room with strict instructions on how to assist if they were needed. After a thorough examination and a lengthy morning conference, Flamel had decided that the best most immediate need was an extreme cleansing at the tissue level. In effect, this would excise the effects of decades of abuse done on Snape's body and remove any complications caused by his dabbling in the dark arts of late. Flamel theorized that this procedure would also permanently sever Demos from Snape. The level of dependence that Demos needed from Snape was unknown. Demos may or may not survive the severing. Both Severus and Demos were told of the plans and they asked for a few private minutes before giving their permission. Demos was then escorted out of the Counsel Room premises and the portcullis defense ward was changed to refuse him admittance. Hagrid, Trelawney and Filch were stationed just outside the portcullis keeping Demos company with orders to take whatever action may be required should the demon wraith behave strangely. Right now, Demos paced the corridors involuntarily phasing now and then.  
  
After almost two hours the colors subsided leaving only a bright while glow about the now unconscious Head of Slytherin. Flamel carefully lowered Snape back to his bed. Then he himself collapsed into a nearby chair completely drained. Poppy was at his side immediately administering healing and recovery spells to the great wizard. Ollivander went to check on Demos while Albus roused Snape.  
  
Albus cast an enervating spell and said "Severus, wake up. How do you feel?"  
  
"I don't feel Demos, anymore. How is he?" Severus rasped through dried lips.  
  
"He should be all right. Flavius went to check on him. Do you feel any pain?"  
  
"No, no pain. Look!" Severus weakly lifted his arms. "They don't feel heavy anymore."  
  
"That's very good, very, very good." Albus adjusted the blankets adding a warming spell while he did so. "Get some rest now. You're on your way to recovery."  
  
Amazingly, Flamel recovered very quickly and he stood up straight stretching his arms out. Any other wizard would be laid out asleep for several days after the feat he had just performed. At Poppy's slack jawed awe, Flamel chuckled and said "Years of exposure to the Philosopher's Stone, Poppy, I am much, much healthier than I seem."  
  
Ollivander returned with Demos. They stood by Snape's bed for some time. Flamel observed the wraith running a hand against Demos' forehead and shoulders. "Demos, I desire to examine you and execute some tests with your permission, of course. Never have I seen anything like you. You hover on the edge of full sentience, did you know? Physical sentience will come as you mature, I suspect."  
  
"I will have a true physical body?" Demos asked turning his face left and right as the alchemist continued to explore.  
  
"Eventually. Your phasing abilities interests me greatly." Flamel examined Demos' back and he said to Snape. "Though having read through your notes, Severus, I still cannot decipher how this uniquely fascinating creature came to be. I, too, am familiar with the Consula Econtra in its original form but even your modifications should not, could not result in this. You may have just created a new lifeform, young man.."  
  
"I can only attribute it to lady luck, sir." Severus greedily drank down a glass of pumpkin juice. It was the first drink he had been able to keep down in days. "Perhaps we can go over events in more detail before you leave."  
  
"That would please me much. Tomorrow, I want to examine your mark in more depth. If you will excuse me I am ravenous." Flamel declared. "Since I cannot show my face to the students, can someone direct me to the kitchens?"  
  
"Come with me, Nicholas. I'm feeling peckish myself," Ollivander and Flamel went off to the kitchens catching each other up on events in the other's life as they went.  
  
"He is incredible! That procedure has only been described as legend. Yet, he just did it with no preamble, no great preparation that I could see," Poppy looked at Dumbledore and Snape and they all laughed.  
  
"One of a kind, Poppy, one of a kind." Said Dumbledore.  
  
- * -  
  
Tension was all too evident in the ramrod postures of the two people squaring off in the study of Malfoy Manor. Lucius had finally broached the subject of Narcissa joining the Death Eaters. He was prepared to be persuasive. However, he was not prepared for his wife's unusually vehement attitude.  
  
"I am not interested, Lucius. I've told you that before." Said Narcissa.  
  
"Why? Look at me! This . this has not done any harm to me. There is nothing to be afraid of, my dear." Said Lucius revealing his dark mark.  
  
"It's not the mark or that I'm afraid. I am opposed to the basic philosophy." Said Narcissa.  
  
"Narcissa, I don't understand. You believe as I do in the inferiority of muggles."  
  
"Yes, I do. But I don't want to kill any of them either. Peaceful, ignorant coexistence is my preference."  
  
"Is there nothing I can say to -"  
  
"Stop, we've had this argument before, Lucius. My answer will not change. You are wasting your time." Narcissa left the study and knew she would sleep alone this night. Lucius could be so tiresome when he was bent on recruitment.  
  
Lucius watched his wife leave and poured himself a scotch on the rocks. He should have known that he could not move her. Her family's teachings were too deeply ingrained. His mind mulled over different approaches to get Draco on his side. If anyone could convince Narcissa, it would be Draco.  
  
- * -  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
The Story of the real-life Nicholas Flamel can be found at http://www.alchemylab.com/flamel.htm. This is a really late update. I had an extended business trip last week.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
  
A bed of black sand went first. Next came a layer of fragrant passiflora harvested from the tropical greenhouse. The dark green leaves were showered with coarse bits of charcoal followed by finely ground rauvolfia roots and crushed verbena leaves. A lit match triggered the burning. The brass lid shielded the burning from prying eyes. Sitting on the floor, Neville Longbottom secured the smoke burner's lid firmly checking the stand one last time. Grayish streams of smoke plumed upward from the small opening in the middle of the lid. He grinned and nodded at Hermione Granger who sat opposite him in front of the Eyrie library. "Breathe it in and relax," Neville instructed. He opened a small booklet with a stained cover and dog-eared pages.  
  
"We're about to perform a slightly dark spell and you tell me to relax." Despite the tone of her words, Hermione breathed the incense in as instructed. The sweet floral scent hit her neurons quickly. She felt calm but very alert.  
  
"Just because we're using a few drops of blood does not make this a dark ritual." Neville said. "A lot of the ancient spells use blood in lots of rituals to make things more fool proof."  
  
"Who are you trying to convince?" Hermione asked. For the third time in the last ten minutes, her eyes drifted to a box of bloodletting lancets lying next to a shallow mixing bowl. "We're not going to use the entire box are we? Like one per book?"  
  
"No, just one lancet, marvelous things. I don't handle needles well so having these handy is a godsend." Neville picked up his wand and placed the open book on a bookstand next to him. "You understand why this is necessary, right, Hermione? Because you're not of the Tradition, we have to link you to the library in this roundabout fashion. You ready?"  
  
"I understand and I have my part memorized." Hermione took a deep breath and placed her wand in front of her. She noticed that Neville wasn't using his normal wand. The wand in front of him was shorter, thicker and very old. She could just make out some inscription engraved on one side. "Let's get started then."  
  
Neville placed a crystal shard of sky blue celestite in the mixing bowl. Neville took out one sterile cylindrical lancet. Hermione presented her left hand towards him index finger extended. Neville placed the blue end of the lancet against her finger then pressed the white end of the lancet. Hermione steadfastly kept her hand still. Unseen, a small, razor sharp needle inside the lancet jutted out penetrating her skin then retracted back into its sheath. Hermione squeezed her index finger waiting patiently as a small pinprick of blood pooled at the end of her finger. She held her finger suspended over the bowl watching intently as four drops of crimson dropped onto the waiting crystal. Through the crystal's transparency, Hermione could see her blood being absorbed into the crystal. Together they raised their wands. In one voice they said the incantation binding the blood to the crystal. Hermione raised the bowl holding it over the pungent gray smoke rising above the smoke burner. Neville consulted his booklet then cast another spell to link the crystal to the library. They both watched fascinated through the hazy gray smoke as the crystal slowly turned a deep shade of red.  
  
Neville cleared his throat loudly. He asked the first required affirmations. "Do you understand the power of the knowledge which will be made open to you?"  
  
"I do." Hermione replied solemnly. The mixing bowl in her hands was starting to get hotter. She had at first thought the arcane and intricate ritual to be a bit overdone when she'd first read through it. But now she thought differently.  
  
"Do you dedicate the strength of your mind, the bounty of your heart and the depth of your inner soul to the attainment and improvement of this knowledge?"  
  
"I will." The bowl in her hand began to hesitantly turn in an anti- clockwise direction. She found the heat almost comforting.  
  
"Will you bind yourself in lifelong contract to the protection and sheltering of this knowledge following the dictates of the Tradition?  
  
"I will as I must." Hermione let her breath out in a hiss as the bowl heated to a higher temperature. After a few seconds she saw a sparkle of red light flicker inside the crystal. The crystal itself returned to its natural translucence edged by sky blue. The bowl stopped turning. The bowl cooled quickly. Hermione reverently took the crystal and placed it in a gem holder on a long chain. She then slipped the chain over her head. She gasped loudly and closed her eyes for a few moments. Her mind was flooded with title after title, book after book, summary after summary of every item in the library. She had one more step to do to make the ritual complete. She stood up on shaking legs and walked to the library. As she passed her hand over a book, the book's spine glowed yellow green. A whispered "Accio" compelled the book to fly out of its shelf, expand to its full size and land gently on Hermione's outstretched hands.  
  
"Congratulations, Hermione! It is a bit awe-inspiring to feel the story of every single book isn't it?." Neville watched her closely for any signs of distress. Professor Snape had warned him that this particular ritual had never been performed on a pure muggle born before so he had to be alert to anything going wrong.  
  
"Cool, wow and awesome are so inadequate to describe this, Neville. I stand here and I can remember every person who every contributed a book or a parchment as if it all just happened yesterday. I can feel what they felt." Hermione ran an appreciative finger over the bookshelves leaving a glowing trail of rainbow colors in her wake.  
  
"Before I forget, I ought to warn you about something else. Since the library is bound to Hogwarts right now, you'll feel historical resonances in certain parts of Hogwarts - good and bad." Neville said  
  
"Really, what can I expect?" Hermione experimented summoning and returning books.  
  
"Without warning you may get chills whenever you get close or are in an area of historical significance. Sometimes, I've even heard a voice telling me what really happened in that area." Neville clutched the booklet and returned it to his desk drawer. He then lifted the smoke burner and placed it on the low table by the fireplace. It was still emitting a puff of smoke now and again.  
  
"Professor Snape's voice?" Hermione asked playfully. She followed him and took a seat on the sofa.  
  
"No, it sounds like Mr. Ollivander or at least one of his ancestors. The Ollivanders are the historians after all." Neville turned serious. "Hermione, I have to tell you that Professor Snape made an exception for you."  
  
"He did!? Why? He could have just said no when I asked him." Said a flabbergasted Hermione.  
  
"I don't know why. I have to believe that he must have a good reason. The professor said something about finding allies and friends in the oddest of circumstances."  
  
"Friends and allies, eh," Hermione pondered this new bit of information. "I'm sure he's very selective about who gets access."  
  
"Selective doesn't begin to describe it, Hermione, not even the headmaster has access. Only those born of the Tradition know of the library. And only seven people know that the library is here. And only five of those seven people truly know what it contains and have access to it. To most people it just appears as rows of miniature books, nothing special." Neville took a seat opposite Hermione. His face had lost its normal earnest amicability. It was replaced with a determined, almost grim, expression.  
  
"Five people in the entire world?" Hermione walked slowly towards the fireplace and sat down on the sofa. The enormity of the privilege granted to her hit her square in the solar plexus. "Just five?"  
  
"Yes, Professors Snape and Vector, Professor Snape's father, you and me. That's it. That's the five." Neville continued on.  
  
"I had no idea. I just wanted a chance to read in here. What's in it that's so valuable?"  
  
"Besides being an archive of hundreds of years of magical knowledge, it also has our family histories - the Snapes, the Bones, the Ollivanders and mine. It contains almost every thought, discovery and achievement that's been kept secret from everyone else. We don't treat it lightly. My grandmother put my father's journal here. I . I didn't know him but I do now because of that journal. All of this is passed on to a.. a Keeper."  
  
"Like a secret keeper?"  
  
"Yes and no. The keeper of the library is more of a guardian. He protects the library all his life and with his life, if necessary. The keeper donates a little bit of his life essence to the library. This keeps the books in a state of permanent stasis so they don't deteriorate. The keeper is the only one who can move it to another location or grant access to it."  
  
"What about all the relics in here? Mr. Ollivander said that they belonged to Salazar Slytherin."  
  
"That's separate from the Tradition, Hermione. It's the sole responsibility of the Snapes. That's all I know about that. You'll have to ask Professor Snape." Neville informed her. "Professor Snape has a double responsibility for the library and the Eyrie, too. Keeping it from the Death Eaters must be an incredible strain on him."  
  
That last almost offhand comment startled Hermione. "You know that he's a Death Eater and your parents were -"  
  
"Ex- Death Eater. We've talked about it. I know what I need to know." Neville said.  
  
"Wait, before, you said that only the Keeper can grant access. But didn't you just give me access?" Hermione gave Neville an intent look.  
  
"It's true when they say you can't put anything past Hermione Granger. Yes, only the Keeper, or in my case, Keeper's Apprentice can give access. I can only do so with Professor Snape's absolute permission though." He went to make both of them some coffee. It was going to be a long night.  
  
"That's . Snape's apprentice... I mean... that's incredible.'  
  
"I know I can't believe it myself but, I'm the only choice. The professor was an apprentice to his father and became Keeper after his father got . was, ah, taken ill. Professor Snape doesn't have a son to be his apprentice. Hugh Ollivander is apprenticing with his father. The Bones' male heir isn't at Hogwarts yet. So- "  
  
"How very chauvinistic!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"Don't have a choice there either. Magnus Snape and Pieros Ollivandros set up the library such that only direct male issue at most 2 generations apart like a son or grandson could serve as a Keeper." Neville pointed out. "So, unless and until the Professor has a son, I'm stuck with it."  
  
"That's sounds very unfair! It's not your fault you're . you're available."  
  
"Hermione, it's fine with me. I'll just have to learn how to juggle two sets of responsibilities." Neville brought their coffees over.  
  
"Two?" Hermione took a sip of her cappuccino.  
  
"I'm my family's only direct heir. So, I'll be taking over my grandmother's responsibilities. She took over my father's place in the Tradition when he was disabled."  
  
"So each family has a specific function to perform or to do? The Snapes take care of the library. The Ollivanders are the historians and the rest of the families?" Hermione probed.  
  
"The Bones keep an eye on the political end of things muggle and wizard. My family oversees the financial side like managing stock portfolios and investments. The Ollivanders are the inventors and historians. The Snapes are the researchers and the first line protectors of Hogwarts itself."  
  
"So that's why Professor Snape teaches here though it's obvious he's not a natural teacher. He's stuck doing it." Hermione frowned at this new revelation.  
  
"Actually, one on one he's not so bad a teacher. He could have taken any job on staff just to stay on but he chose to be a teacher. So, he must enjoy it on some level."  
  
"If he does, he doesn't show it." Hermione observed. "Though, you're right, he must be under a lot of pressure. Is every Snape always made the Head of Slytherin house?"  
  
"I don't think so. The door won't open for any Slytherin, not even the head of Slytherin unless he's a Snape or of the Tradition." Neville said. "For some reason, the professor was very adamant about no Slytherins ever entering this room let alone know about its existence."  
  
"At last, a haven from Draco Malfoy and his goons." Hermione said cradling her drink in her hands letting the heat warm her hands. They were both quiet for a few moments. "Neville, I promise you that I will treat this, all of this, as a great gift that I'm privileged to have. I can't help feeling that this was done at great risk. I'll keep its secrets."  
  
"Good. I'd hate to lose any blood revoking your privileges."  
  
"You're starting to sound like Professor Snape. You'd better watch that." Hermione and Neville clinked their mugs together.  
  
"There are a few other permissions and privileges that I need to tell you about. The first thing is that now you'll recognize any one in the Tradition. Look at me and let your mind drift. The incense will help. Tell me what you see."  
  
Hermione did as he instructed. The aromatic incense seemed to fire up her mind and senses but relaxed her body. She squinted at Neville barely able to see an intense white glow around him. "There's a field of blue white light around you. I blink and it's gone but I saw something."  
  
"Fantastic. Blue and white are the colors of the Tradition. Only those of the Tradition can see that color combination. The more powerful the wizard or witch the bigger the white field is. You have just enough of the inner sight magic, just enough." Neville commented. Before she could ask which he was sure she was about to, he gave her the answer she was after. "Inner sight magic is an old kind of magic. In the old days, before wands, wizards and witches relied much more on their senses to see and feel the magic around them. So, one of the skills you had to learn was how to read people."  
  
"Like body language?"  
  
"But body language can be controlled. But your aura or boundaries of character doesn't lie. Haven't you ever looked at someone and out of the corner of your eye you think you see something else? That's the boundary. Aura reading is taught in Divination but not very advanced -" Neville stopped at seeing Hermione's dismayed expression at the mention of Divination. "It's just a different way of concentrating where you relax your physical body but sharpen your mental focus and senses. The incense helps you get started and as you get better at it you won't need the incense."  
  
"Do I have to get lessons from Sybil?"  
  
"It's either Professor Trelawney or Professor Snape. Professor Snape tutored me for 3 straight nights but I got it. I'm sure you'll only need one lesson."  
  
"I'm not too sure about that. Divination has always rubbed me the wrong way. But, all right. Sybil it is. What else do I need to know?"  
  
"Tomorrow, I'll show some areas in the castle and on the grounds that are accessible to the Tradition and -"  
  
"Neville, wait. I'm missing something here." Hermione stood up and began to pace in front of the fireplace. "This sounds more than just getting access to certain places, Neville. "  
  
"Didn't Professor Snape explain it to you? What it means to have access to the library?" Hermione shook her. Neville sat back in surprise. "Must have slipped his mind. Listen carefully, Hermione. The only people who can access the library are those of the Tradition. In order to give you access, Professor Snape made a big exception. I doubt there will be another for a few more hundred years. He decided to make you one of us by linking your bloodlines to that of my family, his family, the Ollivanders and the Bones. As the Keeper, he can do that. You're one of us now and so will your children and their children. Your bloodline is the first line added since the old patriarchs joined their lines together."  
  
"Oh, my god. But, Neville, I'm muggle born, how can that be?"  
  
"We make no difference between muggles and non-muggles. Blood is blood." Neville said. "In fact, I'd love to be around when someone calls you a mudblood within earshot of any of the Tradition, especially the older generation. They can be extremely protective. You do understand that you have the full support of all of us from now on financially, socially, everything. Anything you need."  
  
"Why would he make such an exception? It's . I can't believe this! Does the headmaster know about me, about this?"  
  
"I doubt it. We keep things pretty much to ourselves. I'm sure he'll find out eventually. Oh, but the Tradition knows already. You'll probably get congratulatory posts tomorrow."  
  
"I don't understand. I have to talk to him, talk to him now, tonight." Hermione stared into the small fire. Her face expressed her inner turmoil.  
  
"Can't. Remember Madame Pomfrey issued the blanket do-not-disturb-the- professor-and-stay-out notice this afternoon."  
  
"Neville, we argued. I called him so many names, poured insults on his head. I pointed out that he was cruel, unhelpful and overbearing. I really lost my temper. Then he does this. this incredibly generous gesture. Why? I need to know why."  
  
"The answer won't be coming tonight, Hermione." Said Neville gently. "Let's call it a night. I think you need some time to think about this. I'm sorry I didn't realize you didn't know all the implications."  
  
"Thanks, Neville. I guess it just hit me all of a sudden." As they left, Hermione took one last look at the darkened Eyrie.  
  
As they left turned off the Eyrie hallway, a pair of suspicious eyes followed their progress. Draco Malfoy trotted down the hallway the two Gryffindors came from past the sleeping portraits. He saw only one door in the hallway. He tried it and found it locked. "Alohomora" didn't do the trick. He tried a few more spells all to no effect. He casted a ward reveal spell and saw no wards of any kind around the door. He decided to come back another time. First, the professor now Longbottom, what in Merlin's name was the mudblood witch up to?  
  
- * -  
  
Around midnight, In the cold dungeon quarters of Severus Snape, a dark shape climbed on to his bed. There Demos laid - fetal, unmoving and silent.  
  
- * -  
  
Before breakfast the following day, Hermione found herself knocking on Professor McGonagall's office. She had been awakened that morning by about a dozen owls pecking and hooting at her bedroom window. She was surprised to receive a note from her head of house congratulating her and asking to see her before breakfast. So, here she was. The door swung open and she entered. Professor McGonagall hummed a tune while arranging some fresh cut roses in a vase.  
  
"Good morning, Hermione. I was very surprised by what happened but very pleased." The head of Gryffindor house cast a Circle of Anomi as she conjured some tea for Hermione. "I didn't expect that from Severus but I'm sure he has his reasons."  
  
"So you don't know why he, um, did it, either." The tea was making definite inroads in her foggy head this morning. She had tossed and turned most of the night unable to silence the questions playing over and over in her mind.  
  
"No, the Keeper has full discretionary powers I'm told."  
  
"How do you know about it? Are you in one of the four families somehow?"  
  
"No, my dear. I received a post from Genevieve Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, late last night. I suspect it was right after you were joined. She's looking forward to meeting you."  
  
"Her and about a dozen other people I don't know. I think I even got a post from Professor Snape's parents. What am I supposed to do now? What's expected of me? Why did he do it? What do I tell my parents? Do I tell my parents? Am I allowed?"  
  
"I believe that Professor Snape is the best person to explain that. I'll ask Poppy to allow you to see him for a few minutes later today."  
  
"Thanks, Professor. I'm just a bit overwhelmed that's all. On my way here, Susan Bones gave me a wink and a thumbs up. Professor Vector sent me a singing leprechaun post."  
  
"The Tradition is very close knit, Hermione. You could not ask for better allies and friends." McGonagall looked at her with kind eyes knowing the myriad questions her charge had.  
  
"Neville said that Professor Snape said the same thing - friends and allies in odd circumstances. I'm grateful but puzzled." Hermione admitted.  
  
"Your answers will come in good time, Hermione. Come on, let's get to breakfast." The two paragons of house Gryffindor left the office.  
  
- * -  
  
During breakfast in the Great Hall an unusual thing happened. The headmaster got mail. Normally all his mail was sent to this office. This must be an extraordinary post. One could not help notice the bedraggled, aged owl that swooped, stuttered and swooned as it headed towards the high table. Harry nudged Ron and said "Ron, it's Errol! Heading towards Dumbledore it looks like."  
  
"It must be from mum. We need to get another owl." Ron said his eyes following the faithful family owl's determined if unsteady progress. Dumbledore promptly retrieved the message and set a bowl of water and some bacon for the exhausted owl.  
  
"There, there, Errol. I'll have you carried back in a basket chair by two school owls. You can rest all the way back." Said Dumbledore stroking and patting the owl while he read the missive. Errol for his part hooted gratefully. After he read it, he passed it on to Professor McGonagall seated at his right. She read it and sedately clapped her hands together.  
  
The headmaster stood up and the hall grew quiet. "I am heartily glad to inform you all that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has been filled not by one teacher but by two. Classes will start after Christmas break. You will be receiving revised day schedules tomorrow." Dumbledore scanned the room while he paused for dramatic effect. "As to the teachers, I will personally be teaching the course for the rest of the year." This announcement was greeted by some loud cheering. He continued. " Assisting me will be a former head boy here at Hogwarts, William Weasley. Classes will start -"  
  
The respectful hush was broken by ear-shattering applause from the Gryffindor table. The applause coupled by foot stomping and cheers drowned out the rest of Dumbledore's speech. Ginny beamed proudly clapping and screaming her brother's name "It's Bill. Bill's a teacher!" Ron was collecting congratulations all around with a big grin that seemed to have taken permanent residency upon his wide, honest face. Harry and Hermione exchanged quick looks very happy that for a change the Weasleys' were the ones with a reason to celebrate. The other house tables save for the Slytherins extended their congratulations. The Slytherins as a whole adopted a poisonous demeanor shooting baleful glances at the wildly celebrating Gryffindors.  
  
Professor McGonagall tapped the side of her water glass once again getting the room's attention. The room quieted down immediately and the headmaster continued. " I have a few other announcements to make. "As you all know, this is the last full week before Christmas break. Please inform Professor McGonagall if you are intending to stay here over the break. Additionally, the castle will be undergoing some renovation work over the holidays and the castle will not be conducive to rest and relaxation. One more thing. Professor Snape will be resuming his classes after the holidays. That is all."  
  
The potions master's imminent return brightened only the Slytherin table. Their baleful glares turned to incongruously sunny smiles and sly grins. No one's grin was more mischievous than the one on Draco Malfoy's face.  
  
- * - Author's Notes Passiflora caerulea is also known as the blue passion flower is popular in homeopathy for the treatment of insomnia and similar nervous disorders. It's stated hypnotic and sedative-like effects are medically well known. The plant itself is an evergreen, tropical climber with pink-tinged blue flowers and tough-skinned, egg shaped fruit that is edible if not tasty. Rauvolfia aka Rauwolfia serpentina is a small woody perennial with whorled leaves of dark green hails rom India and the East Indies. Fittingly Slytherin, rauvolfia was long used in India for treating mental illness and snake bites. It is commonly known as the "insanity herb" or snakeroot because it is an effective treatment for snake bites and scorpion stings. In the 1950s, the drug reserpine, derived from rauvolfia roots, replaced electric shock and lobotomy as treatment for mental illness like paranoia and schizophrenia. Reserpine was the first major tranquilizer as well as lowering blood pressure and controlling hypertension. The drug deserpidin, which is both a tranquilizer and an antihypertensive, is derived from Rauvolfia tetraphylla also known as the "Be Still Tree." I kid you not. Verbana (verbena officinalis) or Verbain is native to South America and was brought to Europe by the Spanish in the 17th century. The leaves retain their lemony scent for years and thus are widely used as perfume agents today. Gardeners value the purple flowers as good attractive soil coverage. Medical herbologist have used verbain to strengthen the nervous system and treat migraines, headaches and stress related depression. Modern scientific experiments supports the ancient use of verbain to increase breast milk flow and promote menstruation. Celestite is a mineral related to strontium. It's well known for its strength and sky blue colorations. A lancet is a small needle used by diabetics to prick themselves getting a blood sample so they can monitor their glucose levels. They can be used standalone or inside a spring loaded mechanism. 


	17. Chapter 17

In One Spirit - Chapter 17  
  
The darkness twined and twisted about his senses tempting him to luxuriate in the exuberant lavishness of raw, destructive carnality. Cravings clawed at his entrails eager to be recognized and released. Voldemort clamped chains of his making around the burgeoning clamor. Slowly, his body was healing becoming once more a fine instrument instead of a lifeless vessel. His mind and senses were getting sharper, too. But he had to maintain control, always control. It would not do to be hasty. His decision to confront James and Lily Potter had been an impulsive, angry gesture. His decision to kill all of them was not well thought out. He could have used the child as bait for the old man. Or held mother and child for ransom as Snape had suggested so strongly and, in hindsight, so wisely.  
  
He would not be reckless this time. He sipped his tea and perused the long list in front of him. The first item "Kill the boy" gave him pause. He really didn't have to kill him, he realized. His attempts to date had been failures. It would not do to dwell on failures. No, he simply had to remove him from his victory equation. The best way was to make Harry Potter of no account in this war. Remove him. Distract him. Make his involvement a moot, useless point. The old man had cleverly used the boy to get his attention and keep him from seeing the true prize - Hogwarts. Voldemort shook his head and said out loud "And I obliged you, old man, letting vengeance and hate get the better of me. I confess I fell for it. But this story shall have a different ending yet. I guarantee you that." He crossed off "Kill the boy" and wrote next to it "Take the boy out."  
  
Voldemort took another sip and read his second item "Isolate Hogwarts." Under that were two three additional lines which said "Cut off or reduce resources and money", "Turn the Ministry from Hogwarts allies to Hogwarts obstacles" and "Discredit potential allies." Lucius had ably accomplished those two items. Lucius had also had a hand in his third item "Mislead the Ministry." Now that those two initiatives were underway it was time Lucius handed off those tasks to Macnair. Voldemort would need Lucius for his fourth item - "Break into Azkaban." Underneath this item he had written "Find Sirius Black" and "Deal with the Queen of Dementors."  
  
Pouring himself another cup of coffee from the carafe, he checked over items five, six and seven. All three were assigned to Severus Snape. They were listed as "Make new friends", "Find a cure" and "Secure leverage." These three were vital and formed the three points of his strategy. Executed flawlessly these three alone assured him near total victory. Under five he read "New Mark" and added below that "Valde Commendus." There were several scratch outs under number 6 "Find a Cure." Crossed off were "Consula Econtra" and "Use Demon" and "Regenerate body." He added in capital letters "NEARLY DONE." He looked at item seven and added a new subordinate item "Get to know the Grangers" right under "Get into the chamber again" and "Turn the Dursleys."  
  
He was now down to item eight "Survival Plan." This was assigned to Wormtail. Several items had already been checked or crossed off like "New identity", "New location" and "Investments." Unlike the last time he was prepared for the worst. During all his years in exile, he had dissected his failures the first time around. The most glaring mistake had been the lack of a suitable escape plan. Well, not this time. If things did not go as planned and he could not take the old man down into hell with him then he intended to survive in relative comfort and safety. He would bide his time until the old man was finally rotting in his grave and maggots used his skull for a playground.  
  
Item nine he had assigned to himself. It was three words and four syllables "Find the traitors." He had known for some time that the old man had his own spies and sources. While he knew it wasn't one of his own inner retinue of loyal Death Eaters, there were still the wider pool of his followers' families and acquaintances. It would only be a matter of time until all the turncoats, both innocent and guilty, would be uncovered and dealt with. The new mark would ensure the loyalty of his future followers. Eventually, the traitors would make a mistake and he would be there to make sure that their regret was felt a thousand fold for a very, very long time. Betrayal would be awarded with pain beyond imagining for longer than anyone could possibly imagine. And after all that, then he would exact his true and final vengeance.  
  
Item ten on the list was new. Voldemort had added it yesterday. It simply said "Rewards for Severus." Underneath that item were two boldly curving questions marks. He had been thinking about this for two days now and he was no closer to an answer. Family? Wealth? Fame? Recognition? Respect? There had to be something suitable. He'd find something sooner or later.  
  
Voldemort put the list and quill down next to his breakfast tray. He shrank the list down and secreted it in a hidden pocket of his vest. He checked his appearance in the mirror. His face was now normal. The extra sleep the last two nights had done the trick. His eyes were once more a vivid green. His hair had grown back, still short, but serviceable. His short beard had grown in giving him a kindly, distinguished appearance. Round, gray tinted glasses completed the look. Dressed muggle style in a black vest, blue tie, dark blue shirt, tan overcoat and khakis, he could easily have been mistaken for an academic or, at the very least, a casually dressed businessman. He tucked his wand in his vest and doffed a stiff brimmed fedora. His skin was still unusually sensitive to direct sunlight despite his experiments with sun blocking lotions. He made a quick mental note to consult with Severus about the matter. In a blink of an eye, he had vanished from the farmhouse. He appeared in the Notting Hill district a short distance away from the new office. He was a few minutes early for the meeting with the realtor and Wormtail. It was a fine day might as well take advantage of it, he thought.  
  
- * -  
  
Demos opened his eyes. Even opening his eyes took effort. His eyelids were heavy as stones. Slowly, he experimented with stretching his body from the compact fetal position it had been in all night. The experiment as experiments go was a dismal failure. It was not done smoothly. His arms and legs jerked and twitched as if they were not receiving the commands of his mind quickly enough or in the right sequence. He flexed his fingers. He watched intently as his fingers curled into a fist far more slowly than normal. However he did succeed in rolling over on to his back. He tried to phase but a sharp stabbing pain in his head stopped his further attempts. The stinging pain didn't stop at his forehead. The stings cut into his eyes the longer he kept them open. He noticed something else. He put his palm to his chest. He could feel heat radiating off his skin. He could also feel air coming up his nose and down into his chest. This was something new, he thought. He wanted to stand up but his body and mind were not cooperating with each other. His body ached everywhere. His mind was surrendering to the daggers of pain now centered on his forehead. Sleep and rest, it seemed, were the only things both his mind and body agreed on. So he closed his eyes and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.  
  
- * -  
  
The wizards had been at their task for over three hours but their concentration was still as deep and intense as when they had begun. Three voices rose and fell together. Their skill evident as they accentuated each low deliberate intonation and phrase. One magician swished and flicked his wand emitting sparks in time keeping all to the same rhythm. Another sorcerer declared the invocation again and again without fail. The last enchanter casted the necessary spells on each and every battle wand arrayed in ordered rows on the gray armory floor.  
  
As the ritual was completed on the last wand, Professor Flitwick, Mr. Flamell and Mr. Ollivander said the last phrases as one. "Magna vis veritatis mecum porto. Agnosco veteris esse alterum semel emissum!" With these last words, shafts of light left the wizards' raised wands enveloping the battle wands in a red hazy glow. The sigils on the battle wands flared crimson once then each sigil transformed to a shiny metallic finish.  
  
Flitwick leaned against a wall breathing heavily. His wide exultant smile belied his weariness. Nicholas Flamell breathed in deeply flexing a numb wand arm too long held in one position. Flavius Ollivander returned his wand back into his pocket.. On shaky legs, he thumped the dungeon door three times before sliding down to sit on the floor massaging his aching temples.  
  
Mr. Filch came in followed by Professor McGonagall. The headmistress held a tray of drinks. Each exhausted wizard gratefully took a glass of pumpkin juice as did McGonagall and Filch. "Well, at least the place is still standing." Filch observed. "So, when can we use 'em?"  
  
"Soon enough, Mr. Filch. My son will be including the holsters in the next shipment." Ollivander turned to the head of Gryffindor house. "I didn't thnk you'd be around this morning."  
  
"Better here than at the trustees meeting with Albus. I have little patience for bureaucrats and administrators however, well meaning." McGonagall replied helping Ollivander to his feet.  
  
Flitwick raised his glass in a toast. "To a job well done, everyone."  
  
"Here, here," added Ollivander clinking his glass against Professor McGonagall's own drink.  
  
"I take it that someone shall take the time to record the entire ritual for posterity?" Said Flamell.  
  
"No more trial and error." Filch said. "The castle can only take so much."  
  
"I told you I'd get it right." Ollivander said in his own defense.  
  
"Really, Argus, it's not like Flavius does this kind of thing every day." McGonagall added.  
  
"I was out of practice. I did admit to that." Said the flustered wand maker.  
  
"Yes, I remember you saying so, Flavius. You did indeed get it right." Flitwick could not resist teasing his old friend. "Eventually."  
  
- * -  
  
Seated on side tables, Walden Macnair nudged Lucius Malfoy before his eyelids drooped closed for the umpteenth time. As if on cue, William Douglas came by behind them and handed a goblet apiece to Macnair and Malfoy. Both drank deeply of the mixture of pumpkin juice and Pepper Up potion. As the potion began to awaken their sleep-deprived senses, the two Death Eaters nodded their thanks to the Minister's very helpful assistant. Douglas went around the center table placing a goblet in front of each trustee. The secretary general droned on enumerating the various sundry details of the proposed amendments.  
  
From another side table across from Macnair and Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore sat bemused and docile on the surface but his eyes and ears missed little. Beside him, Sybil Trelawney took copious notes. She had nervously presented the school's quarterly brief and answered the trustees' questions ably. But two hours later her nervousness was past. In its place was well concealed but growing disgust. As the meeting wore on Hogwarts allotted budget shrank seemingly with each passing minute. Every trustee, save one, seemed to believe that Hogwarts could easily function with far less funds than the previous year. The headmaster and Professor McGonagall had warned her about what to expect but she hadn't believed either of them. Now she knew better.  
  
Malfoy had been frankly dismissive when Dumbledore introduced her as substituting for the ever-busy Professor McGonagall. She could see where the younger Malfoy had learned to be so effortlessly callous and superior. She decided that she did not like Lucius Malfoy. Her estimation of him sank to even lower depths after Lucius persuasively argued against a release of new investment notes to cover Hogwarts' growing maintenance costs. Sybil had gripped her quill imagining that it was Malfoy's neck she was squeezing so tightly. She kept her expression calm and impassive as Dumbledore put up only token resistance during the ensuing debate. The trustees had voted against issuing new notes with one notable negative vote from Madame Genevieve Longbottom. One friend amidst a gallery of enemies, she thought.  
  
- * -  
  
Harry glanced at Hermione over the rim of his goblet of pumpkin juice at lunch. She seemed only mildly preoccupied. But there were signs that there was something going on with her. Something she wasn't saying. And her behavior this morning during potions class was, well, bizarre. Bossy, always. Stubborn, definitely. Outspoken, yes. But bizarre was not a label applicable to coolly, logical Hermione Granger. During potions class, Hermione's hands had trembled. She had attributed it to the dungeon's notorious chill but somehow Harry thought otherwise. He had casted a warming spell on her robes but her hands had continued to tremble despite her best efforts to still them. He tried to keep an eye on her but their potions assignment had been an intricate one. His own potion claimed most of his attention during class. He had even heard Neville prodding Hermione on the ingredients list. That was unheard of. A few times he had seen her covering her ears with her hands as if unwilling to listen to something. After class, she had bolted out of the dungeons saying that she had forgotten something in her room and would see them at their next class. Down the table, he saw that she looked as self-possessed and poised as she normally did. Both she and Neville would be at the strategy session and casting practice tonight. He'd make sure that he got to talk to each of them later on.  
  
Hermione was completely unaware of the concerned glances aimed her way. Professor McGonagall had informed her that Madam Pomfrey had been absolutely against any visits to Professor Snape today. Why, she wouldn't say. Instead, Hermione would have a few minutes tomorrow. Hermione had put on another layer of clothes right after potions class. The classroom had been heavy with chilly historical resonances that made the hair on her arms stand on end. She had been treated to an audio explanation of various historical events that had happened in the room such as deaths, rebirths, transformations and the obligatory tortured soul. She realized Professor Snape's heavy, billowy robes were probably designed to keep his body heat in. She glanced at Neville and noticed that he was wearing new woolen robes as well. He'd gotten a package from his grandmother some weeks ago. Nice of them to warn me, she chided. Well, until she got used to things and Neville gave her the full tour, she would have to avoid the older portions of the castle. Hogwarts, A History had definitely left out a fact here and a fact there.  
  
- * -  
  
That night in the makeshift isolation ward, the potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry kept his acid comments to himself and meekly drank his medicine with no arguments or protests. The enforced rest had done him some apparent good. The bags under his eyes were gone. His eyes were brighter, more alert. His face had lost many of the tense lines and obvious stress of the last few years. But make no mistake he was still Severus Snape. Some things can't be changed only temporarily improved. All in all, Pomfrey could find no fault with her patient's behavior. To her mind Snape was being far too cooperative.  
  
The headmaster followed by Nicholas Flamell, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout and Mr. Ollivander came into his sick room. The others conjured some chairs for themselves. Snape made himself comfortable. Their weekly strategy meetings always ran long.  
  
"So, how are you tonight, Severus?" asked the headmaster.  
  
The nurse answered for him. "He's still under a great deal of pain medication and spells, Albus. He has flu-like symptoms headaches, aches and pains, a fever. It will be a few more days before he's released and only if his fever goes down. And, before you ask, Severus, you may not be transferred to your room. Here you are and here you will stay. Now, I'll be back in a few hours. I need to check in on Demos and the infirmary." With that the redoubtable nurse left.  
  
Having all his tactics blocked by the very firm Pomfrey, Snape resigned herself to a few more days of enforced inactivity. He answered Dumbledore with "As you can see, I am in good hands." Professor McGonagall casted a Circle of Anomi and a recorder spell.  
  
"Very well, then. Let's get started." Dumbledore faced the others. "The trustees' meeting was today. As expected there are more budget cuts. However, we did manage to sneak in the discretionary addendum as is. This gives myself and any head of house the authority to declare an emergency and close Hogwarts off completely."  
  
"How completely?" asked Mr. Ollivander.  
  
"No one gets in and no one gets out. The Ministry will not be able to control Hogwarts in any way." Dumbledore answered. "No one will be able to cross the wards of demarcation without our permission and knowledge. Unless great force and energy is employed, those wards should block any light forays that Voldemort may attempt."  
  
"And we will be ready when he does deploy the majority of his forces," said Flitwick.  
  
Snape spoke up. "The addendum did not specifically grant such scope to the authority, headmaster."  
  
"Not by word but certainly by implication and intent," Dumbledore said. "It matters not. It was passed. Cera, let's start with you, please."  
  
"My original estimate for the Tree of Blessings to be halfway to maturity was four months. I am happy to say that I have revised that estimate to two months. Full maturity will be in four months. Demos has been invaluable in communicating with the plant and determining the optimum growth media saving me weeks of trial and error. We would not be as far along were it not for his involvement." Professor Sprout said.  
  
"Wonderful news, Cera!" said Flitwick.  
  
"I have also begun cultivating a new tree using seeds from the first fruit. Before the start of next term, we should have two fully mature Trees of Blessing." Sprout continued. "As you know Siege and Defense will be doing the majority of the reconstruction work during this Christmas break. Sinistra and Filch are eager to get some real work done. Can the other teachers arrange diversions for the students remaining here so we can continue our work without prying eyes?"  
  
"Logistics and Planning is on it, Cera." Answered McGonagall. "Sybil will be organizing several all day field trips to various sites in London and Glasgow. Student attendance will be mandatory."  
  
"Yes, that will do. One more thing, Minerva, we're are once again short on storage space. The next food harvest is during the holiday break. This month's harvest is expected to be three times normal. Hagrid got a bit overzealous. I will therefore also need more house elves." Said Sprout.  
  
"You'll get the extra elves and the extra room. I don't know where, but you'll get it." Said McGonagall.  
  
"The buried dungeons, Minerva. Now that Malfoy has apparently stopped his testing, it should be a safe place." Snape said. "They are structurally sound. It should not take Filch and the Baron too long to make storage spaces."  
  
"Fortunately, the thing that calls that place home doesn't eat food. Very well, please make those rooms ready. Severus." McGonagall complied.  
  
"My report is done, Albus." Cera rolled up her notes.  
  
"Filius, what do you have for us?" Dumbledore asked Flitwick directly.  
  
"The centaurs will be building us several ballistas. Good negotiating done by Lenore and Hagrid on that one. All the wands in the armory have been enspelled as of this morning. Distribution and training will commence in a few days. I am expecting a full shipment of 100 wands sometime during the holiday. Thanks, Minerva, for finding the funds." Flitwick said.  
  
"Thank Vector and whatever lucky gods have watched over him. Our discretionary fund has tripled due to his extra efforts." McGonagall supplied. "I will be adding another ten thousand pounds apiece to funds for Intelligence, Arms and Defense. I suggest you take advantage of my generosity now before I change my mind."  
  
"Hooch has some ideas on using more exotic woods for the war brooms to curb their more negative tendencies. The extra funds will be well used. Also, Ms. Granger made a good suggestion for armor. She was telling me of a muggle material called Kevlar. I plan to order a vest and see how we can replicate it. The literature I've seen show that it could be just what I need. That's all for me." Flitwick said.  
  
"Let me go next." Said Severus. "Our sources have verified an increase in Death Eater meetings - small affairs but more than last month. We have preliminary but confirmed evidence that Lucius has been active in university circles. However, none of his candidates have yet taken the mark. I also plan on changing our safe houses as soon as possible. The most troubling thing is Voldemort's intention to retrieve the Lestranges from Askaban. He said he plans to do so on or right before summer."  
  
"The Lestranges are they still sane?" asked Flamell.  
  
"Based on our last reports, they were considered marginally sane. Their hate keeps them sane, I suppose," Snape answered. "They know that the testimony used against them could only have come from me."  
  
"We cannot take this information to the Ministry. Not only would they not believe it but it would expose our hand too soon," Dumbledore reasoned. "Unfortunately, we have no influence direct or indirect in Azkaban."  
  
"It would be far easier if the Lestranges suddenly took ill and had to be transferred elsewhere. There are plenty of dungeons here." Said Mr. Ollivander.  
  
"Feasible but not practical. Voldemort will be able to know that they were here through the dark mark." Snape explained. "There are safeguards in place to prevent substitution tricks from happening again."  
  
"There are times that the most expedient means is the most effective." Commented Flamel. "Assassination must be considered an option."  
  
"Not even as a last resort, Nicholas." Dumbledore cautioned. "We will find another way. What about the Valde Commendus?"  
  
"Let us just say that I have some less harmful variations in mind." Snape did not volunteer any further information.  
  
"Very well. If you have nothing else, Severus, let's move on. Minerva?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Our investment funds are very healthy. I have asked Vector to slow down his activities. No reason for him to take unnecessary risks. We are pursuing a strategy of portfolio growth and diversification. This week Sybil and Hermione will be arranging staff training for the new transport system. The training will be mandatory. Rooms are ready for Arabella and Alastor whenever they deign to make an appearance. Does anyone else have any special requests?" McGonagall asked.  
  
There were no takers. Dumbledore said "The last item is for you, Nicholas. Any progress on Severus' condition?"  
  
"Success has been found in eliminating the artificial conditions that were accelerating the genetic process." Flamel explained. "But the genetic alteration continues. The progression, unfortunately, has reached the stage where radical treatment is discouraged and will have no effect good or bad."  
  
The concern on the others' faces heightened. Snape looked pensive. He and Flamel had discussed his further treatment for the last few days. Snape had made his decision this morning. Flamel looked as him waiting. Snape nodded and turned to look at anything else but his colleagues and friends' faces.  
  
"When I first reviewed Severus' case, I had several possible solutions in mind. After further study, I see that there is only one possibility open to Severus at this time. It is not a treatment that I would have advocated previously and not one that I suggest lightly." Flamel's voice now changed to lecture mode. "What we have is a condition that cannot be reversed and cannot be eradicated. The only recourse left is to arrest its further development. Genetics is not something that even the founders dabbled with. I must admit that while this unique case fascinates me it also reminds me that we, mortals, are not omnipotent, all knowing gods. We need time to fully study this and cannot rashly employ slapdash solutions. Therefore, as I have discussed with Severus, I propose to give him plenty of time."  
  
Flamel stood up and walked over to Severus. He sat on a corner of the bed. "I will teach and assist Severus in making a Philosopher's Stone. One of the properties of the stone is the ability to place a biological body in a state of dynamic stasis. It will effectively freeze, on a tissue level, Severus' body in the state that it is in right now. He will not age. He will be relatively immune to most illness and disease. Casting dark spells will not incur the usual costs. But more importantly, the stone will keep the genetic activity in a perpetual loop, as it were. It will not progress further."  
  
The room was silent and he continued. "Should the alteration continue, Severus will begin the line of Slytherin anew with his first offspring. We are all aware here of why that must not be."  
  
Dumbledore added "Severus, what is your decision?"  
  
"I choose time." Snape sat up straight and shook hands with Flamel. "The stone will be destroyed as soon as another cure is found. I have responsibilities to my line and that supercedes everything else. I do what I need to do."  
  
"When, when will you make the stone and what will you need?" McGonagall asked.  
  
"It will take at least a month, Minerva. Both Severus and I must rest completely beforehand." Said Flamel. "I will need an able assistant like a student to do many of the preliminary preparation. I have cancelled my plans to leave. My wife, Pernelle, has enjoyed fooling our neighbors in believing that I am still around there. She will have to more inventive a little while longer."  
  
"I have just the assistant for you, Nicholas." McGonagall approached Severus' bed and talked to him in low tones while the conversation swirled around them.  
  
"Doesn't the making of the stone gather attention, Nicholas?" Flitwick asked. "To certain sensitives it will be like seeing a fireworks display."  
  
"Too true, Filius. It cannot be made quietly. Others will see the signs. If they know how to interpret the signs, they will know that a new stone has been made." Flamel admitted.  
  
"Perhaps, the Room of Counsel will have sufficient shielding to keep the display to a small flicker," Sprout suggested.  
  
"And we should arrange other diversions during that time to confuse the sensitives," Ollivander said. "Allow me to do so."  
  
"I made the stone several hundred years ago. I have new theories and techniques to explore." Flamel said. "I think your idea regarding the Counsel Room is a correct one, Cera."  
  
"Well, it has been a night!" said Dumbledore. His eyes had regained their normal twinkle now that a solution had been found. A solution whose permutations he was sure he would ponder long into the night. "Let us all get our rest, especially you Severus. I will talk to you in the morning."  
  
They left Snape to rest while they traveled as a pack through the dungeon halls. In the Great Hall, they were met by an agitated Madam Pomfrey. "Thank Merlin! I was going to get you. Quickly, come with me. Something's wrong with Demos."  
  
- * -  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Question: Has this plot gotten too convoluted? Or fantastic?  
  
More of V's plans are revealed. These plans are now going to have conflict with Dumbledore's plans. Or will they? I know, I know yet more plot points and questions. I've been working on getting this one back on track while neglecting my other stories. But this looks like its in good shape once again.  
  
The Latin phrases used by the three wizards loosely translated or is supposed to mean "Great is the power of truth that I carry within me. I recognize the vestige of my second self once released." Any translation and conjugation errors are entirely my own.  
  
Azure - Absolutely right! I've kept an eye on run ons.  
  
Stellar Snape - Your encouragement has meant a great deal.  
  
Zephyrel - Readers are really getting into picking up the line here and there. Eagle-eyed one, I'll surprise you.  
  
Troesnaja - Hope you like where I take Demos - where no shadow had gone before.  
  
Mundungus42 - Well, all the research is paying off. I'm not good at dark angst so my fics tend to have humor. When it stops being a fun read, slap me.  
  
Werecat - If you see anything amiss, let me know.  
  
Semi Charmed - The SS/HG has been growing slower than grass. But I hope that this ch gives you several clues on where its going.  
  
To all who have read and or reviewed - Thank you and I hope you keep enjoying the story.  
  
mavidian 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
  
Five lumps were scattered about the room lying prone over plump pillows and under scarlet blankets and quilts. All save one was oblivious to the magical mayhem and mischief seeping into every stone, crack and fiber of the castle known as Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Neville Longbottom had been asleep, very soundly in fact. But some inner sense had dragged him away from his cozy rest and plunged him into cold wakefulness in an instant. He put on his wool robes over his nightclothes. He had only taken a few steps when he turned back and retrieved a new wool robe from his trunk. Quietly, he left the Gryffindor boys' dormitory with Trevor tucked in his pocket.  
  
As he closed the door, he took a look back at the four lumps he was leaving behind envying them their night's sleep. The bludger-into-box tactical exercises had been exhausting. Ron had been merciless in repeating drill after drill. But, in truth, Neville had found it much more draining having to deliberately make mistakes like misaiming his spells or delaying a spell just enough to look like a missed hit. Hermione had been of no help whatsoever. Of course, she had had her hands full diverting Harry's increasing inquisitiveness. He had to agree with Professor Snape's assessment: Being yourself was hard but pretending to be someone pretending to be someone else was not conducive to good health or a sound psyche. Of course, the trick was learning to balance things while developing eyes in the back of your head and nerves of granite. In the common room, he saw Hermione Granger waiting for him. She was pacing back and forth in front of the cold hearth a thin satin robe thrown on over her nightclothes. Her hair, if possible, was bushier than usual. Her eyes mirrored his tired, bloodshot ones.  
  
"About time, let's go." Hermione tossed her head and led the way out. Before slipping out the door, Neville wordlessly handed her his new robe. Hermione slipped it on with a grateful grin. "You're starting to read minds, too."  
  
"Nothing magical about it. It's called anticipation." Neville whispered to her as they stepped through the portrait hole. "Thanks for waiting."  
  
Hermione's next words came out in a mumbled rush. "I didn't have a choice. I forgot the password." At Neville's disbelieving look. "Well, you know I've had a lot on my mind lately. And all that stuff I had to say to Harry tonight to put him off and -"  
  
"You didn't lie to him, Hermione." Neville interrupted.  
  
"I didn't tell him the truth either. And even if I was free to tell Harry anything, how could I when I myself don't know what the truth is. Answer me that one. YOU have all the answers lately!" Lack of sleep and general crankiness allowed sarcasm to wend its way through her words. "I'm honored beyond anything, truly, but I wish I'd known more about it beforehand. Have I heard a peep from him about . about this situation all day? No! I thought he would at least have some consideration. I've been patiently waiting ALL day. I've heard from everyone else -YOUR grandmother. HIS own mother but from HIM!? Not a WORD. Obviously, I don't even rate a short, 2 sentence OWL POST! He goes and blithely does these mysterious things and no one ever questions him."  
  
Neville wisely kept silent during Hermione's tirade. He was after all the only age mate she could discuss the Club or the Tradition with. If she wanted to talk about it, he had to let her. He stifled a yawn as they turned a corner. Fortunately, Hermione had the presence of mind to keep her voice low as they made their way to the Eyrie. "Now, look at this. Awoken from a sound sleep by . by a summons!"  
  
"It's not like it's the Professor calling us, Hermione. He is not the cause of all our problems." Neville would have said more in defense of his absent mentor but Argus Filch came running past just then tailcoats flying with Mrs. Norris scampering after him.  
  
The two Gryffindors looked at each other and broke out into a dead run. As they ran, Hermione continued. "Did you feel the same way, Neville? Like a fist had grabbed your heart and squeezed and . and you had to wake up no matter what."  
  
They turned down the same corridor Filch had just come from. "Something is definitely not right. I feel like my whole body has turned into an icicle." Neville answered rubbing his hands together.  
  
"Oooh! Where did this headache come from?" Hermione rubbed her temples in mid run.  
  
Once around the corner and into the next corridor, they stopped in their tracks. In front of them, Professors Flitwick and Sprout were issuing rapid-fire orders to various ghosts, house elves and moving pictures all the while walking quickly and purposely down the hall. Now and again, a house elf or a house ghost would appear gesticulating to one or both of them. Ghosts appeared and reappeared.. Though Sprout and Flitwick were still in their nightclothes and slippers an aura of command and power radiated from both of them.  
  
"What's going on?" Hermione asked as the two professors approached with their ghostly retinue in attendance.  
  
"Something about Demos. On our way to the dungeons now." Flitwick absentmindedly said while he turned to give further instructions to a waiting house elf. "Inform the Headmaster that so far Hooch has not reported any perimeter activity. And after that find Pince. Tell her to meet me at the gates."  
  
"Albus has issued out an alert to all house heads. The demarcation wards seem to be turning on and off on their own." Sprout added. She turned to the Friar and said. "Find Hagrid. Tell him we're assembling by the gates."  
  
By now, Flitwick was giving instructions to Sir Nicholas. "Tell Hooch to continue her patrol on the perimeter but don't take any chances." The Gryffindor ghost didn't bother with the usual niceties and just disappeared to carry out his instruction.  
  
Professor Sprout asked "Where are you two off?"  
  
"The Eyrie, professor. The Eyrie wards, ah, um, gives off their own warning summonses." Neville explained clumsily.  
  
"Are we under attack, Professor?" asked Hermione worriedly.  
  
"If it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named I doubt he would miss any opportunity to let us know it was him doing all this. No, this is something completely different." Flitwick was abrupt and to the point. Despite his attire, the charms professor seemed alive and alert. His eyes were hard and shrewd. Hermione noticed that Flitwick had a bandoleer strapped around him. There were several short, stubby wands latched on to the bandoleer. His own wand was strapped to his forearm. "I hope it's not the Blessing. We're not ready for that to fail just yet."  
  
The Friar reappeared and hovered by Professor Sprout. "Professor, Hagrid is unconscious."  
  
"What!? Was he in the forest?" said an incredulous Sprout.  
  
"No, no. He was one of the sitters tonight." The Friar wailed in answer wringing his hands as he did so. "I found them all unconscious down there - Hagrid, Professor Trelawney and Madam Pince. The Tree, oh, oh, it looks like it's shrinking!"  
  
At hearing the Friar's horrible words, Professor Sprout ran off alternately cursing and praying. Her companion left her heading for the Sitters Room in a blur. She shouted "Filius, game change! Stall and delay!" Professor Flitwick's companion came out his body. He wrapped both his hands tightly around it. The tiny professor was lifted off his feet as he said. "You two go where you'll be of use! Go, go!"  
  
Needing no further prompting, Neville and Hermione raced down the corridor. Flitwick zoomed off in the other direction as fast as his companion could go. The walls blurred by but he kept shouting non-stop instructions to the ghosts trailing him. "Friar, tell Albus, I'm joining Hooch on the outer perimeter then we'll regroup at the gates. Find Flavius! Tell him . make himself ready. I might need him! Grey Lady, tell Vector to take care of the eastern and southern wards! Hooch and I will take care of the north and west. Then go back to Sinistra. Tell her to go help Vector."  
  
- * -  
  
They made a strange sight positioned as they were around Severus Snape's large bed. The bed had been dragged hurriedly and without ceremony from its customary position by the wall to the center of the room. Other pieces of furniture had been moved to the side to accommodate this new arrangement. At the north point, Albus Dumbledore stood with one arm gripping the headboard. In his other hand, he held his wand high casting a blazing torch spell that bathed the dungeon quarters in near-blinding, incandescent glare. Professor McGonagall stood on the southern end her wand raised maintaining a levitation spell. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she fought fatigue to keep the heavy object within her spell balanced and unmoving. It was not an easy task. The object swayed sometimes slightly, sometimes violently to and fro, left and right, up and down. To her right, Nicholas Flamel scraped and tapped collecting various samples on parchment pieces or in glass vials. To her left, Mr. Ollivander helped Madam Pomfrey remove the soaking sheets and replace them with new blankets charmed to repel water. From the perambulating object above them fell boiling droplets of water that beaded and hissed upon meeting cloth or flesh. Occasionally, a house elf or ghost would pop in to deliver messages and receive instructions.  
  
"What do you make of it, Nicholas?" asked Dumbledore. He nodded to Minerva as he added his own levitation spell to Minerva's. He handled the cumbersome weight while Minerva controlled the now violent pitching. Their two companions hovered around the object giving it an occasional nudge in the right direction. Whenever a companion touched the object electrical sparks ignited on contact. "Flavius, Poppy, hurry, please. Demos seems to be getting more agitated the longer he's levitated."  
  
"Motion sickness belike. Severus didn't like being suspended either." Poppy commented dryly patting the last blanket into place. Pools of water formed here and there. Flamel and Poppy had both agreed that getting the object dry and secure was a top priority. "When will he get here?"  
  
Nicholas Flamel carried a scrap of parchment to the bed stand. He set it down gently. On the scrap was a small pile of dry, brownish, uneven slivers. Using his smallest finger he sorted through the pile and separated the larger pieces into another pile. He took some smaller flakes between his fingers and ground them until they were dust. As he did so the flakes crackled and snapped like kindling wood. He inhaled slowly and carefully. A faint, earthy muskiness clung to his nostrils. The dust had the texture of soil yet its odor had the tang of iron and copper. He had tried a flame test earlier. He found the substance resistant to flame and burning in general.  
  
"Patience, I pray for patience. I cannot make something of nothing, Albus, at least, not yet." Flamel stirred some flakes into a clear solution shaking the vial in a clockwise motion. The mixture turned red then settled into a viscous dark brown semi liquid with a tint of red. "It's growth and spread pattern I find analogous to fungal growth or lichen but with the density and hardness of metal. This combination is unsettling and disconcerting at best. What it is I could not begin to guess."  
  
In the doorway standing by a bedraggled Argus Filch was Severus Snape breathing heavily from the frantic run from his own hospital bed. He clutched his robes more tightly around him but the chill had already seeped into his bones. His blood pressure was fantastically high. Every vein in his forehead and neck throbbed painfully. As he stood there leaning on the doorframe for support, he knew the Eyrie wards were being breached. His duty lay, must lie, in the Library. But once he had emerged from the shielded walls of the Counsel Room at Filch's heels, he had become aware of Demos once again. He would not ignore Demos' stark terror and pleas for help, duty or not. Snape summoned a house elf and left instructions for Neville.  
  
- * -  
  
As they had got closer and closer to the North Tower, Hermione and Neville's discomforting headaches and chills became more debilitating. More than once they had to pause and brace themselves before continuing on. As they entered the Eyrie shivering and rubbing their foreheads, they saw Professor Vector standing by the windows, hands raised and launching spell after spell. Energy crackled and lanced in sharp arcs around his form. He saw them come in and yelled at Neville. "It's all I can do to keep the outer ward perimeters up! You have to take care of the library, Neville! Snape's left instruction with that elf there!"  
  
The elf delivered its message. Neville told the elf to return and tell the professor "Instructions received. Hermione's with me." Neville strode to his desk and took out a gnarled wand from one of the drawers. Hermione ran to the library. She cast a quick ward reveal spell and saw that the normally white and blue ward was pulsing an angry red. Red meant it was fighting against something - something that was trying to get through.  
  
"Neville, what's strong enough to get - ?!" Hermione began.  
  
"Doesn't matter! We're going to move it. Have to move it." Neville thumbed quickly through his dog-eared booklet.  
  
"Move it?! Where? Can you even - ?"  
  
"Together we have the power. We're going to take it back to the last place where it was safe." Neville rummaged around his desk reading through several parchments. "Here's the incantation. Start memorizing. We start in five minutes."  
  
Hermione grabbed the parchment and blanched. She had good reason. Reproduced on the parchment was a complex series of incantations and spells in old High Latin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neville open one of the armoires and take out a long, dark staff with muted silvery engravings in the middle. Professor Sinistra ran in and stood by Vector. She started joining her spells to his. Hermione forced her attention back to the parchment. They had five minutes.  
  
At a final nod from Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall slowly lowered Demos' encrusted form back on to the bed. All their eyes followed the pod's downward progress. Demos' form was sealed inside a hard, egg shaped shell or husk covered tip to tip by brown scales with a vein-like pattern of leaves. Snape walked closer as the pod settled on to the bed. The bed frame creaked at the weight. Water cascaded over the sides splashing down to the stone floor. The pod rocked left and right as if something was rolling inside. Professor Sprout came in and motioned to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Sprout kept glancing at the pod and shaking her head. After a few minutes of hushed conversation, Professor McGonagall opened her partner bond completely and sent Ollivander a message - volunteer to partner. Ollivander stopped talking with the Friar immediately and turned to make eye contact with Professor McGonagall. The headmaster and the headmistress departed after the extremely agitated Professor Sprout. Mr. Ollivander pulled Flamel off to the side.  
  
Snape ran a hand lightly over the rough surface. Though damp, Demos' cocoon was not slimy to the touch. The scaly exterior was tough and rubbery. "Demos, Demos, can you hear me?!" Snape asked. "Demos, answer me! Stop moving and listen. I'm right here. Everything will be all right. Let me help you."  
  
The cocoon stopped moving. Snape continued. "If you can hear me, move." The husk rocked sideways and then stopped. Snape let out his breath in relief. "All right, good. If you are in pain, move." The cocoon remained still. "Is your movement limited." The cocoon moved once. "Can you phase your body?" There was no movement. The questions and the answers went on for a while. Demos remembered feeling very tired and achy the other night. He had fallen asleep. The next thing he was aware of was waking up inside the "cocoon" unable to see nor hear anything nor utter a syllable. He soon discovered that he had very limited movement inside. He was laid out flat on his back. His back and legs felt attached to something. He had sharp pains in his stomach and head now and again. He had tried to wait patiently in the darkness but began to panic when he heard no one or anything. Then he had heard Poppy tapping on the outside calling his name. Soon he heard the others but he could not speak to them. He had rocked and rocked the pod with all his strength to make sure that they knew he was still inside. He wanted to get out and soon. He didn't like being inside. When would Severus get him out?  
  
"Demos, listen to me. I will get you out even if I have to cut through this . this shell with my bare hands." Snape said his voice whisper soft and rough with emotion. Snape sat on the bed one hand on the cocoon. Snape still had some fledgling sense of what Demos was feeling. The sense of the other was not as strong as it had once been between them but there were still vestiges of sensation. At the moment, the uppermost emotions Snape could sense were Demos' anxiety and fear. Snape tried to project soothing calm in his thoughts while mastering his own fears and doubts. He schooled his voice to his best potions master's tone hoping that the sharp tone would replace Demos' fears with calm and confidence. "You will get out, Demos. Have no doubts on that. We must study this and find the best way to get you out without harming you. For now, I want you to rest. You must rest now."  
  
Demos began to rock hard. Snape added less stern but still firm. "You won't be forgotten or alone. I promise you." The cocoon rocked again. "I'll be here. If I'm not here then there will be others." The man-sized pod began to rock so violently that one end began to slide off the bed. Snape, Ollivander and Filch held on keeping the pod in the middle of the bed. "Demos, I cannot stay here for very long. I must return to the Counsel room's isolation ward." The rocking grew more insistent. Snape's attempts at reason had failed and he knew it. He and Filch pushed and rolled the pod until it was in the center of the bed again.  
  
As Mr. Ollivander left the room, Poppy saw the helpless distress on Snape's stricken countenance. As she herself laid a hand on the pod her thoughts turned to recent memories. Some time ago, she had watched as Demos had come into existence during Severus' first disastrous summoning. For a moment, thinking Severus' life endangered, she had had a chance to destroy him. But fate had stayed her hand from that mistake. Of that, she was more than glad. This child, for he was very like a child in his winsome heart and earnest soul, had gifted them with far more than they had returned or expected. Now, this child needed them. She implored softly letting her voice express her affection for this most unexpected of creatures. "Demos, please, please stop. We will not let you stay here by yourself. We know you're scared. One of us will always be here. You will never be alone asleep or awake. Please, please stop before you hurt yourself." Her warmth and affection won out. Demos stopped rocking. "Do you want to choose the ones you want to be with you?" The pod rocked once. "All right after every name I mention rock once for yes." Pomfrey listed out all the names of everyone in the Club. After Demos had made his choices, Snape indicated that he would go first and stay until dawn and then Madam Pomfrey would relieve him. The others would take their turns later.  
  
The Bloody Baron appeared with an urgent summons from Dumbledore for Pomfrey and Flamel to join him in the Sitters Room. Snape moved to join them but Poppy stopped him with an adamant wave. "No, stay here. You can barely stand as it is."  
  
Nicholas ran a trained eye on the gaunt potions master. His inner sight told him all he needed to know. Snape was under a great deal of physical pain. In his mind's eye, Snape's aura was vibrantly blood red especially around the head and chest. "She's right, Severus. We'll call you if we need you. Stay here. Try to rest." Snape was forced to acquiesce to the note of rigid, unequivocal authority in old alchemist's gently worded command.  
  
Back in the Eyrie, Hermione stood ready. She grasped one end of the wand staff while Neville held the other. They were the only ones standing in the room. Both professors were on their knees as they strove to augment the faltering Hogwarts wards. They continued to send spells out drawing on all the energy their companions could provide. The maelstrom of energy around them grew so blindingly intense that only their outlines were discernible as dark shapes against a backdrop of shifting colors. . No matter how much they re-energized the wards, the energy would begin to dissipate again after a few minutes forcing them to add more and more magical energy. Neville and Hermione shut out whatever else was happening around them and began to chant in unison.  
  
As the last syllable was uttered, the two Gryffindors gripped the staff hard with both hands. Around them the sound of whistling air grew louder. The wand staff began to vibrate and hum. The air became a physical manifestation blowing so harshly against them that they were lifted off their feet. Tears streamed down their faces as they kept eye contact throughout not bothering to blink or look away for a moment. The wand staff began to turn clockwise. As the rotation grew faster and faster, Hermione and Neville found themselves suspended in the air parallel to the wand. Wherever they were going, they were going to get there fast.  
  
Professor McGonagall split off from Dumbledore midway to the Tree of Blessing's dungeon rooms. Professor Sprout had been quite detailed in her analysis of the problem with the Tree of Blessings. Sprout and Dumbledore were making some adjustments and their solution would be implemented sometime in the next two hours. She had left Sprout and Dumbledore in the Sitters Room to coordinate the others. Sir Nicholas hovered by her side taking her multiple missives. "Where are Flitwick and Hooch now? Mark and time?"  
  
"At the gates. They did not look well." Said Sir Nicholas. "Mark is 3 hours and 10 minutes since first action. Time is 3am exactly."  
  
"Tell them to hold on. Flavius and I are on the way there to relieve them." The headmistress walked briskly into the Main Hall. "Has the Ministry gotten notice yet? Vector and Sinistra?"  
  
"No, professor. We have been able to maintain the ward levels above the point where the Ministry is automatically notified. They should not have any indications that there is anything amiss here. East and south wards are at less than normal levels but holding steady."  
  
"Good. We must keep it that way." McGonagall muttered. "We don't need any more Ministry inquiries. Where are Neville and Hermione?"  
  
A picture of a young lady in Renaissance garb answered. "Last report they were both safe in the North Tower, professor."  
  
"Sir Nicholas, tell Vector and Sinistra to hold on for another hour or so." Sir Nicholas disappeared. McGonagall continued to get her update. "House students?"  
  
"In their dormitories and all accounted for." Answered the same portrait.  
  
"At least some things are going correctly." Professor McGonagall. "Has Poppy managed to awaken the others?"  
  
"Madam Pomfrey reports that Madam Pince and Professor Trelawney are groggy but awake. Hagrid is still unconscious."  
  
"Tell Pince and Trelawney to come to the gates in one hour to take over for me and Flavius. Young as they are one hour should be enough recovery time." McGonagall said as she walked out of the main doors. Mr. Ollivander was waiting for her. Together they headed for the front gates.  
  
Hermione debated the merits of opening her eyes or keeping them closed. She decided to wait. It wasn't a hard decision to make. Her body ached everywhere. Worst, her head felt like an anvil was using it for a trampoline. Waves of pain spiked and ebbed inside her head. Opening her eyelids was bound to be painful. She heard Neville, at least she hoped it was Neville, moving about close by.  
  
"Hermione?" Neville's voice seemed to come from very, very far away. "Are you awake?"  
  
She mumbled something and concentrated on opening her eyes. She saw the last person she was expecting. She'd only met one like him and his appearance was unmistakable. "Professor Moody?"  
  
"Yes, Ms. Granger." Alastor Moody's disfigured face swam in her line of vision. She could make out Neville's worried face off to the side. "Don't try to move much. You're concussed."  
  
"You knocked your head on something when we appeared here, Hermione." Said Neville holding up a goblet of something. "I thought Professor McGonagall was going to skin me alive when I told her. I have to go and tell her you're awake now. I promised. Do you want a drink or something?"  
  
"No, just tired. Are we at your house then, Professor." Hermione sat up and regretted it. The world spun around her.  
  
Moody chuckled. "No, no, Ms. Granger. My home is far from safe these days. I am merely a visitor like yourself."  
  
A masculine voice eerily familiar in its bass timbre touched her ears accompanied by a soft metallic gliding. She followed the voice to see a spare, gray-haired man with a lined face and a thin beard maneuvering his wheelchair closer. "My wife and I are honored to be playing host to one as brave as yourself, Ms. Granger. You are in the home of one Serjanus Snape. My wife and I were planning a visit to Hogwarts to meet you. It seems our introduction has come early."  
  
"A p-p-pleasure to meet you, sir." Hermione extended her hand and was surprised to feel a hard grip despite Serjanus' skeletal frame.  
  
"Unfortunately, your stay has to be brief. Here, drink this. It will ease the effects of the concussion." Serjanus Snape signaled Neville to give her the goblet. "Poppy would be very unforgiving of me if you left my enclave unattended to."  
  
"In a few minutes, I'll be taking you and Neville back. We cannot have you being missed, especially you, young lady." Said Moody.  
  
Hermione downed the goblet and then asked "How's the Library? Is it all right?"  
  
Serjanus Snape smiled crookedly. "The Library is safe. As Severus and I discussed, it will remain here until, ah, some things have matured once more at Hogwarts."  
  
"Matured?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A long fascinating story that is yet unfinished." A tall, older woman with a slim build, dark hair and classical features glided in and stood besides Serjanus. "I'm Calliandra Snape, Ms. Granger, wife to one and mother to the other."  
  
Hermione shook her hand and stared into obsidian eyes twins to those belonging to her son. "I got your . your owl post, Mrs. Snape, but I haven't had time to respond yet. I'm so sorry. I will once I get back. I promise you."  
  
Calliandra laughed softly. "You are forgiven, young lady. And it's Calliandra, now. I suppose you do have a lot on your mind these days."  
  
"You understand!" Hermione exclaimed instantly warming to this open, gracious woman so unlike her remote, standoffish son. The potion was doing its work quickly. "I try to make time for everything but there just isn't enough to go around. I finish one thing and three other things come up. I'm starting to lose track."  
  
"Neville tells us that you have many, many questions." Serjanus asked while he could get in a word edgewise.  
  
"Lots. About the Tradition and all that but I really want to know why I was chosen?" Hermione looked at the Snapes expectantly.  
  
Serjanus Snape started slowly choosing his words with great care. "Please understand that Severus needs no one's permission to act in his capacity as Keeper. He did consult me about your case as he does about all muggle- borns at Hogwarts. In your instance, the reasons to not choose you were many and obvious. However, the reasons in your favor outnumber those against. I cannot speak for my son. However, I advise that you erase any doubts in your heart about your suitability. The Tradition accepts you as you are, Ms. Granger. What you bring to us is far more that what we could give back."  
  
"But I don't have anything to give, sir. What is expected of me?" Hermione's frustration was evident.  
  
"What is expected of you? That's easy." Calliandra smiled at her. "We expect that you will always want to be more than what you are."  
  
"And what should I be? What can I be?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Now, as to that only Severus knows the answer." Serjanus replied.  
  
"Story of my life so far. He hasn't seen fit to talk to me." Hermione said.  
  
"I see. When next you see him, tell him that I, his mother, require him to speak with you for more than .. than.." Calliandra trailed off and looked at her husband.  
  
"At least thirty minutes." Serjanus said.  
  
"Tell my very busy son that I require him to speak with you for no less than thirty minutes before the sun sets on this day." Calliandra looked sternly at Neville. "Neville, you are witness to this."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Neville agreed meekly.  
  
An hour and a half hour later in the Sitters Room, Dumbledore and McGonagall were making last minute arrangements of some school matters while Snape and Sprout consulted on the Tree of Blessings. The Tree of Blessings looked more like the Sapling of Blessings now. It had lost nearly half of its previous size. Filch was temporarily keeping Demos company. Flamel and Ollivander eyed the cots dubiously.  
  
"Well, Nicholas, you'll have a new story to tell Pernelle." Ollivander began to undo his cravat.  
  
"Yes, her husband, a main course on a botanical buffet." Flamel laid his suit at the end of the cot. It had been a long night and even his patience and understanding had thinned considerably.  
  
"Perhaps plant fodder would be more appropriate," Flitwick came in and chose a cot next to Flavius. He unstrapped his bandoleer.  
  
Dumbledore laid down in a cot positioned next to Flamel. He sighed dramatically. "These cots are definitely not comfortable."  
  
"Cots and blots!. Old age and old bones, Albus." Flitwick murmured pulling the blanket over him.  
  
"You woke up on the wrong side of bed, Filius." Flavius settled into his cot enjoying Minerva's undivided attention as she tucked him in. Unknown to the others, Flavius was taking full advantage of his partner bond to thank Minerva for her kind attentions. He thought to her "So, this is what I have to do to get your attention? Save a plant! The reward had best be sweet." She thought back. "I'll think of something. Sweet dreams."  
  
"The next time you rouse yourself to fly around in your nightclothes in the winter chill do tell me how you feel afterwards, Flavius." Flitwick replied crossly. Next to him Professor Sprout was settling down into her own cot. There would five sitters for the whole of today. "Merlin's beard! I thought the Blessing was completely out and we weren't ready. I can't remember the last time I was so scared."  
  
"This was a fortuitous opportunity for a dry run, Filius. When the Blessing's dissolution finally occurs, we will all know what to do. Everyone has performed superbly tonight." Dumbledore put his hat on the small table by his cot and hiked up the blanket to his neck.  
  
Professor McGonagall shushed all conversation and addressed the sitters. "I will now cast the Sitters Spell. It will take a few minutes before it takes effect." She cast the spell on each one of them starting with Sprout and ending with Dumbledore.  
  
"You'll be awakened as soon as the Tree of Blessings has returned to its former level of growth." Snape informed them all. "Professor Sprout and I estimate that the tree will require about 14 hours of full uninterrupted exposure."  
  
"And Demos?" Flamel asked. "How long will Demos be nurtured in that pod?"  
  
"That we don't know." Sprout admitted. "I still find it hard to believe that the Tree put him into that pod in the first place. But all the evidence points to some link. The pod has much the same properties and materials as the last fruit we harvested from the tree. There is a connection."  
  
"To me, the notion of a sentient plant is far more unlikely. Were I not looking straight at it, I would not believe it." Flamel commented. "A sentient plant that needed food and went hunting for it, as it were."  
  
"Yes, it seemed to have underestimated its energy expenditure from forming that cocoon around Demos as he slept. Once the cocoon was complete, it was famished." Said Sprout.  
  
"Someone make sure that thing doesn't go hungry for a midnight snack again." Said Flitwick still irritated.  
  
"You would have done the same thing, Filius. Its motivation is its own survival, first and foremost." Sprout fired back.  
  
"And it couldn't control its voracious appetite?! Hooch is passed out in the infirmary. Vector and Sinistra are hanging on by a thread. Granger and Longbottom are thankfully recovering. While Hagrid imagines giant- eating plants are after him and so has locked himself in his cabin." Flitwich gave full vent to his inner curmudgeon. "I ask you could it not have found a more civil way to ask for more food?! When one is at table, one does not just take and take."  
  
"Plants do not practice manners and deportment. Never have and never will." Sprout was controlling her temper but just barely. To her mind the Tree of Blessing was absolutely correct in its actions. It needed food and lots of it. Hogwarts was full of energy sources biological and otherwise. It was faced with a veritable feast and naturally it was not going to refuse. "Or, Filius, perhaps you are a trifle miffed at being caught completely unprepared."  
  
"I am prepared for attack from without not from within, Cera!" Flitwick squeaked out. "Perhaps, a bit of forewarning on your part could have made this whole experience less . less necessary and exhausting."  
  
Ollivander raised his voice deliberately interrupting the brewing battle of words between Defense and Arms. "I still want to know why it put Demos in the pod in the first place?"  
  
"Demos said that he had felt unwell after the cleansing ritual. Perhaps, it has something to do with our connection being severed by that ritual. The answer resides somewhere. I just have to find it." Snape said in all seriousness. "Since Demos is the only one who can directly talk with the Tree we can only guess what its true purpose was or is. We will have to wait until he is released from that pod."  
Later that morning, Voldemort watched the moving men remove a final item from the back of their truck. The last item was an antique candle-lit torchiere made of ebony and marble. He had discovered it on his shopping expedition in a shop adjacent to the furniture shop. Peter Pettigrew came into his lord's private study sweaty, red faced and out of breath. He had finished rearranging the office furniture on the first floor and partly completed the second floor living areas. The dining room was host to a seven course dinner courtesy of the four star restaurant a few blocks away.  
  
"Master, your dinner is ready." Wormtail gasped trying to get as much air into his burning lungs. A small lift would be installed at the earliest opportunity. Tomorrow, if he had his way.  
  
"Don't forget, Wormtail, to make arrangements for some pipes and ducts to facilitate Nagini's movements about the building."  
  
"Yes, my lord, that as well as the secure vault for your work room. Wouldn't dungeons in the basement or sub-basement be simpler and serve the same purpose?"  
  
"You are assuming that I will be using the vault for my usual purposes, Wormtail. I have warned you before about making assumptions or questioning me."  
  
"I was only trying to be helpful, my lord. Nothing more was implied."  
  
"Very well. I suppose I cannot be too harsh with you. You have found just the building I had in mind. You've done well but I expect better next time, understood?"  
  
"Your humble servant obeys, my lord."  
  
"One more thing, remind me in a month's time to invite that gracious realtor for dinner, will you?"  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
- * -  
  
Author's Notes  
  
This chapter is a bit of a call to action all around. S and H have to have the talk pretty soon, don't they? As always comments, reviews, questions even flames are welcome. They can only help make the story better.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
  
It was too early. It was too late. One day had begun while another was at an end. It had been a very busy night and the dawn promised no respite from activity. Hogwarts was going to be full of tired people today no question. However, lack of sleep was no excuse for dawdling the day away. There were far too many things to do. Professor Minerva McGonagall checked the sleepers in the Sitters Room before continuing on to the quarters of Severus Snape. They had matters to discuss and to her mind there was no time like the present. She swept into his quarters unannounced and casted a Circle of Anomi. She did not sit nor join Snape in a cup of tea in his bedroom. To her untrained eye, Demos' pod seemed bigger than ever. "Severus, why have you not yet talked with Ms. Granger regarding the Tradition and her new status? They're due back any time now. For that matter, why was I not consulted of your plans for Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Good morning to you too, Minerva." Snape dutifully sipped his tea and made a show of finishing his early breakfast. His minder, Pomfrey's companion, hovered nearby watching his every move. A full and completely consumed breakfast was a requirement he had to fulfill or face the wrath of the nurse. "You were not consulted because I am not under any obligation to do so when it pertains to Tradition matters."  
  
"The welfare of all our students concerns me. Anything that happens to a student concerns me." Minerva's response was terse.  
  
"Especially those of your house." Snape said.  
  
"That goes unsaid. While they are here at Hogwarts they are my responsibility. It is my duty to their parents to see to their children's welfare." McGonagall tersely reminded him. "As to Ms. Granger, did you secure her parents' permission? When I talked to her she was in a quandary as to what to tell her parents."  
  
"No, I did not speak to her parents beforehand. I saw no need. However, I or perhaps Genevieve Longbottom can speak with them when it becomes necessary to do so."  
  
"Severus, I am warning you. Do not dismiss this matter so lightly." Minerva pointed out. "I know you of the Tradition believe that you answer to no one else save yourselves. Her parents are very much involved in her schooling and in her life. I have regular correspondence with them. She is their only child and they are justifiably proud of her. Unlike some muggle parents, they fully support Ms. Granger and do their best to understand our ways. Do not underestimate their influence on their daughter."  
  
"I will take that under advisement. Was there anything else?"  
  
"It is obvious to me that you are on your way to a full recovery." Professor McGonagall said. "Did you fully inform her beforehand of what being bonded within the community of the Tradition entails?"  
  
"No, there was no time."  
  
"Did you get her express and sworn approval before the joining?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"Did you consult with any of the Tradition before making your decision?"  
  
Severus inhaled deeply and wet his lips. He hardened his expression and his spine. He had had enough of being badgered. "As the Keeper, I am well able and expected to make decisions. I am under no geas or stricture requiring that I secure your approval in Tradition matters. Secondly, as Keeper, I am obligated to search for talented students of muggle descent and take steps to insure their continued success and survival. I am here at Hogwarts for that sole purpose. Furthermore, Ms. Granger is of the age of knowledgeable consent."  
  
"In the muggle world she is still a legal minor, Severus." Minerva pointed out. Each stood tense facing off neither one giving the other any room for escaping this confrontation.  
  
"Minerva, I will only say this once so mark my words well. Ms. Granger is one of the most talented and driven students we have had in many years. She has an almost unconscious focus and discipline of mind. No first generation pure muggle wizard or witch has ever attained the level of mastery Ms. Granger has in the few years she has been here. While she is not of the same power level as a pureblood or mixed blood, she compensates by channeling and focusing what power she does have far more precisely and effectively to get the same or better results. Whether that tendency is an accident of genetics or fate, I don't know nor do I care. I suspect that she is unaware of her abilities. I do know that she must be given protection while she learns to use all of her abilities."  
  
"It was not her choice, Severus. You made the choice for her."  
  
"My memory may be failing me but were you given the choice of partners?" Severus stood his ground. "You were not but you accepted, did you not? Brave Gryffindors are so capable of self sacrifice when the reason is heroic enough."  
  
Several expressions flitted across the headmistress' countenance. First was fury, followed by pain then shame. "You cannot always turn a situation to suit you or your needs!"  
  
"If I am allowed to do so, I will and I do as often as I can. What can you expect of me but to take advantage of someone else's culpability and weakness? I am a true Slytherin and as such I firmly believe that the end justifies the means." Snape shot back.  
  
Minerva noticed Severus' apprehensive look. It was there for just a moment before it disappeared once more under his usual sardonic expression. "Taking tips from Albus again. You almost had me believing you. You should have turned away first or made some meaningless comment to deflect further inquiry. Most of all, you should have remembered that I of all people know all of Albus' tricks. There is more to this than what you are claiming."  
  
"Thank you for the critique. I shall make improvements." Said Snape neutrally.  
  
Minerva let the silence stretch between them. The silence confirmed her suspicion. "Severus, it will go no further than this room. I suspect that at some point you will need help. Would it not be easier to have help from a known ally than spare the time to make a new one?" Minerva asked.  
  
"My motives .. sometimes I don't even know what if -" Severus began.  
  
"I'm fresh out of moral judgments, Severus. You won't get any from me." Minerva said.  
  
Snape sighed in resignation yielding to her unassailable logic. He stood and nodded. He informed Demos that he would be in the other room for a while but would return. Snape followed McGonagall into the sitting room. "It started with that first summoning the one that gave rise to Demos. There were unforeseen consequences."  
  
"Aren't there always?" Minerva started a fire and settled herself in for a long story. There was still an hour to go until breakfast.  
  
- * -  
  
Hermione and Neville waited in the salon of the Castell de Remeis for Professor Moody to take them back to Hogwarts. He was upstairs collecting his own things. The view outside the enormous bay window was lovely and more than a little romantic. Castell de Remeis, the Snape's ancestral home, was a working vineyard and winery in the hinterlands of Spain's Andalucia province. The horizon was a band of glorious orange outlining the mountains slowly banishing the evening's dark grip.  
  
Hermione could not stand being inside any longer not when such grandeur beckoned. She opened the French doors and stepped on to the terrace. The property was situated in a valley with mountains all around serving to keep the cold northern winds from taking residence in the valley. Even in deep winter, the air was chilly not icy. Hermione was warm enough with Neville's borrowed woolen robes. Neville was under strict instructions from Professor McGonagall not to let Hermione out his sight on pain of his head of house's considerable ingenuity. He followed her out to the terrace not bothering to stifle a big yawn. He had missed his sleep, his run and was still in his nightclothes. All in all, Neville Longbottom was feeling very out of sorts.  
  
"How can he bear to leave this place?" Hermione opened her arms wide trying to encompass all the beauty around her breathing in the unique crispness of mountain air mixed with the tangy edge of wine, grapes and wood. "It should be a criminal offense to leave."  
  
"Who?" asked Neville rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Professor Snape that's who. If I lived here, I would never leave ever."  
  
"He rarely comes so he rarely has to leave. But you're welcome to return any time you want both of you." Said Calliandra stepping out into the terrace herself. "Return in the spring or the summer. Better yet come during the harvest."  
  
"I'd love to! That's during summer break isn't it?" Hermione smiled at her hostess. "But before I say yes with all my heart, let me ask my parents first."  
  
"As you wish. Alastor is almost ready. Come inside and have some hot chocolate before you leave." Calliandra said invitingly.  
  
As she sipped her hot chocolate, Hermione strolled around the salon looking at the various souvenirs and antiques the Snapes had collected on their travels. An oval frame holding the lone position of honor on the mantel caught her attention. She read the words imperfectly but legibly embroidered within.  
  
By setting sun or waning moon,  
  
One point have I ever steered by  
  
A compass true, a sight adored.  
You are the star I have ever wished upon  
  
The only star I truly chose to see,  
  
My heart's choice, my soul's promise.  
After all has been said and done  
  
You are forever you and I remain as I  
  
Man and woman, earth and sky.  
We circle, we dance, we gaze  
  
One to the other and no one else  
  
And this will never change.  
Calliandra sat on the edge of the sofa looking bemusedly at Hermione. "That was Serjanus' one and only attempt at poetry. It was also my first and last attempt at embroidery."  
  
"It's beautiful." Hermione fingered the none too steady stitching. "You're very lucky to have someone love you that much."  
  
"It's only a little bit of luck. It's mostly compromise, communication and commitment all the time, every day non stop." Calliandra said.  
  
"And forgetting all the arguments you have ever lost as soon as you have lost them." Serjanus Snape wheeled himself into the room. "I have certainly lost more than I have won."  
  
They all laughed. Alastor Moody appeared in the doorway. "Come on now it's time." He said to Hermione and Neville. As Hermione passed in front of her Calliandra Snape handed a silver and cream envelope to her.  
  
"When you see Severus please give him this from me." She instructed.  
  
"Oh, the letter's from you." Seeing Mrs. Snape's puzzled look she explained further. "Professor Snape had me find an envelope in his desk. It was just like this one. I was supposed to deliver it to him while he was in isolation in the Counsel room but I still have it. He must be furious."  
  
"Severus has not had opportunity to read my first letter?" Calliandra asked.  
  
"No and it's my fault. I just kept forgetting about it. That's not like me at all." Hermione replied. "I'm so sorry!"  
  
"It's all right. It just calls for a strategic change in tactics." Serjanus and Calliandra exchanged a glance heavy with meaning. Professor Moody caught the look and sat himself on an armchair knowing that they were not going to get out of there until both Snapes had had their chance to interrogate the two Gryffindors.  
  
"So, Hermione, has Severus recovered from his isolation in the Room of Counsel of all places?" Asked Serjanus very carefully. Calliandra had moved so as to sandwich the two young people between her and her husband.  
  
"As far as we know Nurse Pomfrey hasn't released him yet." Hermione answered.  
  
"I don't know why he doesn't just come here to recover from his regular bouts with exhaustion. It is just exhaustion isn't it, Neville?" Calliandra probed.  
  
Neville flushed caught between the rock formed by his mentor's parents and his loyalty to that same mentor. "It's not just exhaustion. But it's not for me to say. Or for Hermione either."  
  
"I see. Thank you, Neville. I will . we will make sure to talk with Severus very soon." Said Serjanus now looking far more serious than they had ever seen him before. He turned his wheelchair around and slowly moved closer to the hearth with his back to them.  
  
"Now, it is definitely time for you to go. Breakfast is only a few hours away." Said Mrs. Snape. "Hermione, please make very sure Severus gets that letter first thing and thank you. Alastor, get a move on will you."  
  
After Moody, Hermione and Neville had apparated, Calliandra looked at her husband. His face was a mixture of worry and fury. Right now fury was winning and by a large margin. She was not feeling too calm herself. What has Severus been up to? Serjanus summoned their house owls Echo and Dante to deliver a summons to their only child. One owl to return confirming delivery while the other owl stayed on to hound and harass the recipient until the summons had been met. Yes, they knew their son all too well.  
  
- * -  
  
Professor McGonagall and Mr. Filch welcomed the three back to Hogwarts. In contrast to the vigor of her head of house, Hermione's earlier elation was rapidly being overtaken by exhaustion. She was finding that youth and strength of will could carry one only so far. Each step was heavy but necessary. Professor McGonagall conjured up extra cloaks for Neville and Hermione.  
  
"Alastor, your rooms are ready. Did you have a good visit with Serjanus and Calliandra?" Professor McGonagall asked.  
  
"Better than I expected. Calliandra was able to make the adjustments on my eye. It's going to be much more useful now!" Moody said the words with such relish that McGonagall glanced at him with some alarm.  
  
"More useful?" she inquired.  
  
"Very inventive that woman!" Moody chose not to elaborate. He started catching up with Filch.  
  
Professor McGonagall turned her attention to her two charges. Neville was muttering to himself nonstop. She assumed he must be reciting some memory exercises. Hermione was almost sleepwalking. "Ms. Granger, I had a talk with Professor Snape this morning. He would like to see you after your first class."  
  
"So he does, does he? Well, he'll have to wait. I'm exhausted. I have a study period after first class and I intend to have a nap." Hermione snapped the words out. "After all the time that I had to wait for him, he could certainly wait for me. I refuse to be a beggar to the altar of his convenience!"  
  
Taken aback by Hermione's outburst but not fully surprised given the events of the last 24 hours Professor McGonagall let the subject drop. Severus will have to find his own way to make amends with this one she thought. She had a feeling he was going to need help sooner rather than later. Hermione fished out an envelope from inside her robes and handed it to Professor McGonagall. "Please give this to Professor Snape, professor. I really cannot face him right now. I might fall dead asleep on my face."  
  
"Ah, another one of Calliandra's missives. I shall see that he gets it, Ms. Granger. Rest assured." McGonagall put the letter away. The adults carried on their own animated conversation the rest of the way while the younger set trudged along in their wake. They separated and scattered in the main hall.  
  
"It's a ruddy conspiracy!" Neville muttered under his breath. The late night activities had finally caught up with him too. Unlike his companion, lack of sleep made Neville depressed not cranky. Neville in the grips of depression was not good company for human or beast. "Neville do this. Neville do that. Neville blow up that cauldron. Neville look like an idiot."  
  
"Shush! You want to get us caught?" Hermione asked.  
  
"First my grandmother, then Snape, now you. My life is a one long running cosmic joke with the punch line gone on permanent holiday." Despite the incessant commentary, Neville did keep moving following in Hermione's wake.  
  
"Wallow in self pity on your own time, Neville. I'm not enjoying this at all."  
  
"Couldn't tell by your expression."  
  
"Your new attitude while refreshing in its newness pales quickly." Hermione opened the door to Gryffindor tower.  
  
"My attitude !? That's rich coming from you." Neville ducked through the portrait door.  
  
"Watch it, Neville! You are forgiven this time seeing as you haven't had your caffeine overdose yet."  
  
"I shouldn't have had that hot chocolate on an empty stomach." Neville mumbled rubbing his stomach as he made his way up the stairs to the boys dormitory.  
  
"Spare me." Hermione quietly walked up the steps to her dormitory. In her current mood, she would have preferred to stomp her way up but she just did not have the energy to follow through.  
  
- * -  
  
Breakfast at Hogwarts was normally a pleasant affair. However this morning it was decidedly abnormal. First off, the headmaster was not in his usual seat. In fact there were far too many empty seats at the high table - Professors Flitwick, Sprout and Snape. Professor McGonagall had arrived late herself. Most of the staff and faculty were moving at slow speed themselves. Many yawned and large pitchers of coffee kept appearing and disappearing. One thing remained the same though - the owl posts. Two large brown and gray hawk owls alighted on Professor Snape normal seat. They did not look too pleased to find a vacant chair. Professor McGonagall went and attended to them. One owl gave her his message. She scrawled an answer and tied it back on Echo who lifted off again.  
  
Knowing the routine, McGonagall addressed the remaining owl Dante and said "I'll take you to him right after breakfast. Come with me and have some bacon."  
  
"Hagrid's cancelled our first class today Care for Magical Creatures." Said Harry reading his mail. He turned his head to the right thinking that he had just heard Hermione moan. "Excuse me, Hermione. Did you just say something?"  
  
"Just that I could have used another hour of sleep." Hermione answered.  
  
"You're looking more horrible than usual, Granger. You mudbloods need your beauty sleep far more than the rest of us." drawled Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were as usual little more than scowling gargoyles standing sentry beside him. Ron and Harry were already moving to stand by Hermione.  
  
"Well, pureblood, we're not all blessed with brains, looks and wit. I admit I'm quite lacking but I'm puzzled as to what YOUR excuse could possibly be." Hermione remained in her seat eating her breakfast. Neville sat opposite her equally unconcerned.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared not so much because of what she said but because her seemingly indifferent posture was something he had not expected nor found to be much to his liking. He tried a different tactic. "Having too many extracurricular activities of the nighttime variety?"  
  
"I guess I'm just exceedingly popular, Draco" Hermione lowered her voice and practically purred. Harry and Ron stood frozen. They had never heard that tone of voice from her before. And she never called Draco by his first name. What's this about nighttime activities? With her back to her male audience none of them could see the mischievous set to her lips. She stood up and faced them at last. She got close very close to Draco and said. "But you know what a burden popularity can be, don't you Draco? We all do our part but it's so hard."  
  
Her comments were aimed to confuse, belittle and pull his tail a bit. It succeeded in all parts. Draco saw the same old defiant Granger standing before him. He heard the same superior bossy tone of voice. But there was something else, something new. There was a lack of her usual tense indignation whenever the word mudblood was said or implied in her vicinity. Her eyes answered his taunting with a blatant challenge that seemed to say "Go ahead and dare me but you had better be able to take it." Draco got the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that Granger could prove her words and then some. Feeling outnumbered and outgunned appearances to the contrary Draco retreated with ill grace. He and his entourage turned and left the hall without a word.  
  
Harry and Ron were both gaping at her. Well, Ron was gaping. Harry was introspective. Hermione said simply "What? I just got tired of being provoked all the time. I kept making a big fuss about it They kept at it knowing it would always get a reaction. So, I have stopped fussing about it."  
  
"Makes sense." Ron said.  
  
"Still, Hermione, that was unusual." Said Harry. "Unusual for you I mean."  
  
"I had to do something. You can't always be defending me." Hermione explained.  
  
"We're always going to be here for you, Hermione." Said Harry.  
  
"I know. I know you'll always try your best. But you have to admit it's much more fun to get the best of Draco as often as possible." Said Hermione gently turning the subject away from a potential minefield that she wasn't ready to cross with her friends yet to the more familiar path that they were all comfortable with.  
  
"Yeah, but nothing beats the bouncing ferret bit. That is a true classic." Ron added. The three of them left the Great Hall heading for Gryffindor tower.  
  
- * -  
  
Professor McGonagall carried Dante on one arm. A small cream envelope dangled from one of its claws. They found Professor Snape in the Sitters Room. Dante immediately flew to Snape. The five sitters were in deep sleep. They would all be very weak when they awoke. She went to each one adjusting blankets and pillows. Sprout and Flamel looked little change from the last time she had checked on them. Flitwick was a restless sleeper. Most of his pillows were on the floor about his camp bed. Flavius did not look very comfortable either. She adjusted his pillow a little and got another blanket to put over him. "How much longer, Severus?"  
  
"Not much. Having these five in particular is more than sufficient power. The Tree of Blessings is almost at its correct growth level." Said Snape continuing to take measurements ignoring Dante. It was taking him three times as long and more spell work than usual without Demos to help. The owl was used to Snape's treatment and flew a few circles about him before settling down on a table to stare unblinkingly at the potions master. It's eyes followed Snape about the room.  
  
"What about tonight? Sybil has informed me that she is getting four sitters tonight." Minerva said putting a pillow by Dumbledore's side. Albus looked the least restful of them. He must be having bad dreams again, she thought.  
  
"I agree. It's best to be cautious at this stage. Has the Ministry made any inquiries this morning?"  
  
"Fortunately not. No one outside of ourselves know about the events last night." Minerva took out the envelope from her robes and held it out. "However, that is the least of your problems. Here's another letter."  
  
Snape looked at the letter as if it were a highly undesirable object that he would sooner flee from than run headlong into. "Alastor informed me that your parents now know you are in isolation. Naturally, they have questions. Don't blame Neville or Hermione they were just answering their questions." McGonagall informed him.  
  
"No, I don't blame anyone but myself. My delays in my normal correspondence has surely tipped them off that something is amiss." Severus opened the envelope. The gist of the long note ordered him to speak with Hermione immediately and spare her at least 30 minutes of his valuable time. He went to Dante and retrieved the letter that he carried. The second letter was quite brief in contrast to the first. It was in his father's hand. It said simply "Be here 3pm sharp." This was not an invitation. This was a summons.  
  
"Well, I will take care of the first request once Ms. Granger is finished with her first class -" Severus began.  
  
"No, you won't. Ms. Granger is exhausted and will be using her study period for a nap. A well deserved nap." Minerva interrupted him.  
  
"I shall make it a point to consult her social calendar before I set up another meeting with her." Severus replied. "It will have to be right after lunch. That is if she can spare me a moment."  
  
"I'll let her know." Minerva replied.  
  
- * -  
  
After her History of Magic class, Hermione made her way to the Room of Counsel. He was there on one side of the table waiting for her. Strangely enough a brown owl flitted about the large room. She took a seat opposite him.  
  
"I thought this place would be a more fitting atmosphere for our talk. Are you ready for me now, Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Yes, I believe I am. The owl, professor?"  
  
"Ignore it. I do. Now I realize that you are quite understandably upset that we . I simply foisted the Tradition upon you without asking first and -"  
  
"I'm not upset, professor. Not anymore." Hermione interrupted him.  
  
"You're not?"  
  
"I don't agree with the method but I think that if you had asked me first I might have been too intimidated to accept. Perhaps it was best it happened this way."  
  
"A very mature outlook."  
  
"Oh, don't get the idea that you've been forgiven. I've simply decided it's a waste of time to dwell on it."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Do you? I admit I was shocked by it all. The first congratulatory owl I got was from Neville's grandmother followed by all the rest. In the last few hours I've realized that what I really wanted to do was to thank you, professor."  
  
That was the last thing Severus Snape expected Hermione Granger to say to him especially to his face. He barely got the words out. "Thank me for what?"  
  
"For letting a muggle nobody feel like a somebody in the wizarding world." Said Hermione. "You don't understand what it's like to be different and have people reminding you all the time that you're different. You start thinking that there's something wrong or missing with you but you never find out what it is."  
  
"You're wrong there," Severus said the words so softly that she strained to hear him. "Everyone has felt the same way as you have for different reasons but the feelings are still the same."  
  
"You're probably right. But there I've said it. Thank you."  
  
"I did not make an exception to please you but if that is a side benefit so be it and you're welcome." Snape stood up and faced her his hands clasped behind him. "My reasons are entirely selfish. What I am about to tell you stays here and between us only. I will never repeat any of what I am about to tell you now."  
  
Snape took a deep breath before going on. "You are an exceptional student. We both know that. But that is not why I chose you. You have shown bravery, ingenuity and magical skill. But I did not choose you for any of those traits. I chose you because you are muggle born."  
  
Snape did not have to wait long for her reaction. "Yes, that which has made you different is also that which makes you special. There has been much study made of muggle born wizards and witches. There is a pattern that applies to them. The first generation shows the least amount of magical talent and proficiency. If that witch or wizard marries another magical person, then their offspring will have the same power levels as that of a half muggle, half wizard person. And this level continues into the fourth generation. By the time the fifth generation is raised, the overall power level and proficiency has reached the same level as one with no muggle blood whatsoever assuming that marriages continue to be with other wizards and witches."  
  
Snape sat on the edge of the table facing her with arms crossed across his chest. "Five generations is a long time. With more witches and wizards marrying muggles there are fewer and fewer wizards and witches who are in the higher echelons of power and skill. More rely on gadgets and inventions to do their magic for them from omnioculars to broomsticks. The old knowledge and arts are being left behind. And why not when there are paraphernalia that would do the same things and available for purchase in Diagon Alley. The old magic is rigorous to learn, require great discipline of mind and enormous strength of will to wield properly and safely. The Tradition has over the years passed the old arts and the disciplines down from one generation to another. Our primary purpose is to preserve that knowledge. Our secondary purpose is the protection of Hogwarts. Our third purpose is to identify and mentor promising muggle born wizards and witches with the goal of their successful assimilation into wizarding society. There are other responsibilities but those are the most central to the Tradition's philosophy. This is where you come in, Ms. Granger."  
  
"In you all three goals are uniquely combined. Your aptitude and inclinations are, I believe, superbly suited to the understanding of knowledge and its applications. You proved your commitment to Hogwarts by handling anything the Club has asked of you. Over the last few years, your talents both magical and intellectual have been amply demonstrated. Being muggle born is an advantage. You are not handicapped with the prejudices learned and bred through generations of witches and wizards. That plus your inherent aptitude would be an asset. But none of that together or alone necessitated joining you to the Tradition. I could easily have mentored you or made you aware of the Tradition without actually joining your family lines with ours. I bound you to the Tradition for one reason. We need you. We need what you can add to enrich our collective. As I said, it is a purely selfish reason."  
  
It was all too much for Hermione to completely comprehend all at once. But she still had the presence of mind to squeak out. "What would I bring into the . the collective, professor? What would I do?"  
  
"I need you to learn the old ways, Ms. Granger, to learn and surpass your teachers in every way. It has always been a fact that females have more of a natural affinity for them than the males. You will find that the Tradition has very few young people. Voldemort dispatched many of those who could or were raising young families. There is a very real danger to the dissolution of our knowledge simply because there is no one to hand down the knowledge to. You know that I am mentoring Neville. His parents did not . were not given the time to teach him so I am doing what I can to do what they would have done. I would like to do the same with you if you are agreeable to it."  
  
"You're giving me a choice?" She asked incredulously. "How Machiavellian of you! Make the offer so irresistible that it can't be refused. You really don't change do you?"  
  
"I will not apologize for my actions. I feel that I was within my right and responsibility to -'  
  
"To secure the needed object by whatever means necessary." Hermione finished the thought for him.  
  
"Absolutely. I do what I must. I accept who and what I am, Ms. Granger. How others see me is of no import to me." Snape pulled out a chair and sat opposite her.  
  
"I never know where I stand with you. You go forwards and backwards on me in the blink of an eye. You compliment me and then treat me as some object to be acquired and used up. You allow me a glimpse into a world that I had never thought to belong in and then slam the door in my face."  
  
"My first responsibility is to the Tradition. Nothing says I have to be nice or considerate to achieve my goals. I've given you the key and it's up to you to open that door again should you choose." Snape replied.  
  
"It's not much of a choice! By refusing I would lose so much. By agreeing I gain even more than I would ever lose." Said Hermione. "Why the pretense of making it my choice? It was never my choice."  
  
"Everything in life is a choice, Ms. Granger, especially the ones where there seems to be only one eventuality. But what you make of that choice will say more about you than about me. The Tradition and I will demand much from you. What will you make of it? How committed will you be? Your life will change. Can you adapt? How much do you want it?"  
  
Hermione stood up and walked around the table gazing at everything but seeing nothing. "How committed will you be to me?"  
  
"What you want of me is yours. You will never be alone. All in the Tradition protect each other sometimes even above their own blood relatives." Snape answered.  
  
"Will you share? Learn from me as I will learn from you?"  
  
"I will share what I can. That will have to suffice." Severus asked.  
  
"This is all for the Tradition? Is there anything for you?"  
  
"I am the Keeper. I forgot that once and it took me some time to remember. Now that I do remember I have no intention of wasting time. I need an answer, Ms. Granger. What will it be?" Snape looked her straight and held her gaze. "In or out?"  
  
"You give me no guarantees and I want none. I'm in but on one condition." She had completed a full circuit around the table and returned to her starting point.  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"You visit Castell de Remeis more often at least every four months. Perhaps your mother wouldn't be so hard on you if you did." Hermione held out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"  
  
"Why this particular condition?" As he asked the question, he shook her hand firmly.  
  
"Your home is a beautiful place and very restorative. It's obvious your mother misses you and that you're probably miserable here. I would be if I had to leave a place like that. But I know that you're needed here more." She added. "In fact, if you're not more careful, Professor, one could mistake you for a Gryffindor - all foolhardy bravery and self sacrifice in the name of the cause and no sense."  
  
Severus scowled but Hermione could see it wasn't his trademark, genuine Snape scowl. "Only in the dark, Ms. Granger. And only during full moons."  
  
Hermione smiled impishly. "You're deep in denial so be it."  
  
"You are meddling as usual," Replied Snape.  
  
"I have a class to go to in a few minutes, professor."  
  
"Of course. I'll send a lesson schedule much like I have with Neville. We will have to think of a good cover for your new project."  
  
"Professor, I prefer to keep this as secret as possible for a while at least until I can tell my parents."  
  
"Understood. I will ask Genevieve Longbottom to speak discreetly with your parents. Would you prefer to be there with us and tell them together?" Severus asked her.  
  
"Yes I would. I really have to go now." Hermione straightened her robes.  
  
"And I have an owl to attend to. Have a good day, Ms. Granger." Their eyes remained locked for a minute longer and for once the potions master and the know-it-all were in full agreement.  
  
- * -  
  
Severus could not put off answering his parents' summons much longer. Dante shadowed him everywhere. He changed his clothes and checked on Demos before apparating to Castell de Remeis. It was ten minutes to three. His parents awaited him in the salon.  
  
"Start at the beginning, Severus." Serjanus instructed.  
  
"Do fill us in on whatever else you're doing for whatsisname." Added Calliandra.  
  
Severus sat himself down on the sofa stretching out and getting comfortable. "It all started when Voldemort found some research notes on the Consula Econtra."  
  
"The original Egyptian?" asked Serjanus.  
  
"Yes and some of it had been translated to high Latin. It was not complete though. I filled in the pieces as best I could. At the same time I realized that some of the research could be applied to the problem we had with the Blessing of Benevolence. As you know, we decided to pursue the theory of binding Hogwarts to a living, organic object and imbuing that object with the necessary intelligence and sentient ability to protect Hogwarts adjusting and changing in ways that the old blessing never could do. Cera handled the research on the appropriate target object. Flitwick managed the spell matrix to enable the eventual transfer of protection from the Blessing to the target object. Minerva and Cera then devised the actual structure for what has now become the Tree of Blessings. Through my work on the Consula Econtra I devised what I thought at the time was the ideal solution providing both docile sentience and a self-renewing energy source. What you do not know is that on my first attempt at demon summoning -"  
  
"Oh, Severus! Didn't all my stories about that scare you enough as a child?" said Calliandra. "I had hoped you wouldn't follow in my example."  
  
"The apple doesn't fall too far nor does it always roll in the direction we want it to." Serjanus commented dryly.  
  
"I would have been better served if I had remembered some of your stories. I botched my first summoning. Botched there is no other word for it. I summoned a demon that was too powerful for what I needed. I was not prepared. I summoned an Oldest about a thousand years old. I had intended only to leech enough of its energy for my needs. But the vessel I chose to house that energy was insufficient to the purpose. I missed the reasoning that energy from a sentient being needed an organic host. During the summoning I knew things were not going right. I was causing the demon pain as I fought to control it. But I was stubborn. I did not stop. I took more and more of its energy and losing control of it all the longer I went. The energy had nowhere to go. I by default became the host."  
  
"A siphon conducting and absorbing directly from the demon." Commented Calliandra.  
  
"Yes. The demon could not sustain itself as it was losing progressively more energy and tiring of the battle. As it discorporated I lapsed into unconsciousness. Poppy was there and she knows better than I the series of events after I became unconscious. She woke me up. But during the period of time that I was out I believe I went time walking. Never having done it before I believe it is what you've described doing, Father."  
  
"Multiple timelines flashing by while you're on the psychic bridge? Disorientation and displacement?" As Severus nodded, Serjanus sighed. "What's done is done. What do you remember of that?"  
  
"Images from timelines past, present and future too much to remember in detail. I have found myself compelled to act a certain way or making decisions based on the occasional flash of conscious insight. I cross the line between rationality and inevitability time and again."  
  
"If it's any consolation, the psychic displacement should ebb and fade in about a month time." Serjanus had an intent analytical look about him that Severus knew all too well.  
  
"Severus, I have not experienced nor know of any attempts similar to what you tried to do with the Consula Econtra. What physical manifestations have resulted? Don't tell me none. You cannot have dispatched with all that energy and have it go off into nothing." Calliandra said.  
  
"The energy displaced and disowned came to me. Poppy said that she saw the demon's resonant imprint enter me during my lapse. She was proven right. We found the next day that I had acquired a second self, a shadow that is part of me yet separate."  
  
"Is it sentient?" asked Serjanus.  
  
"Yes, very but childlike in many ways. It can converse and comprehend. It has its own volition. It has form and substance. It has a name Demos. Demos and I could only be apart for a few hours before I would start experiencing pain." Snape said.  
  
"All right. Let's see it then." Calliandra made her wand ready. "Summon it please."  
  
"I can't not now. Until a week ago we were inseparable. Mr. Flamel separated us during the cleansing ritual and -" Another slight half truth there Severus thought.  
  
"Wait! Nicholas?! Nicholas' has left his enclave willingly? What has been going on at Hogwarts?!" Serjanus was now visibly agitated.  
  
"The headmaster invited him to serve as a consultant on the Tree of Blessings." There that wasn't a lie with enough truth to be believable. "I collapsed due to exhaustion and from the after effects of my first and second summonings."  
  
"Second? The first wasn't enough of an experience?!" asked his mother.  
  
Severus sat upright before continuing. "You are aware of the companions. It was through my second attempt at which time I had perfected my methods that they came to be. The summoning and the invocation were successful. I did not kill the demon either. The considerable energy left over was used to imbue the seed pod of the Blessing Tree with sentience and awareness."  
  
"So, you have one demon in your charge and another in thrall to you? Do I have that right?" asked Calliandra now pacing the floor thinking out loud. She looked at him intently reading his aura and other signs about him that would indicate his general health. "The cleansing ritual was a success I take it. I see none of the usual dark arts residue about you."  
  
"Yes to both questions. I feel much improved. Poppy released me from isolation before I came here."  
  
"You should have come here. Your mother or I are equally capable of performing the cleansing. Don't say that you were thinking me too frail, Severus, or that your mother could not be spared from my side. It is not your responsibility to protect us. It is however our responsibility to protect you." Serjanus said the words in a light tone but the lesson was very clear. "We are here for you and you need only make use of us."  
  
"You have done more than enough for me."  
  
"Severus, there is no bottom to what we will do for you. When you have your own children you will realize how true that is." Said Calliandra sitting down next to her well meaning but misguided son at least where his parents were concerned. "Speaking of children, have you spoken with Hermione?"  
  
"As instructed, yes."  
  
"Severus, what are the reasons why you elected to join Hermione with the Tradition?" Serjanus asked. "In light of what you have just told us I have to wonder if this was a conscious, practical decision or something else?"  
  
Damn his father's eyes! He could always see right through him. You told Minerva you had better tell them his conscience advised. "While I was time walking, I saw Hermione standing by the library summoning books out of it as if she was born to do so."  
  
"So you decided to help spur the future on by making an exception?" Serjanus deduced. "Half compulsion, half conscious choice?"  
  
"Yes, she already shows remarkable capabilities. I strongly feel that the old ways will come very naturally to her once she learns of it. Perhaps it was a fateful compulsion I don't know." Said Severus.  
  
"What more did you see? About Hermione, I mean." As usual his mother was too perceptive by half. "Your father tells me that adding a new line is far from casual. If it was we would have added dozens of lines by now. What compelled you so strongly?"  
  
Her son was silent and looked away from his mother's too knowing gaze. "I saw so many images. There are many timelines and probabilities. It is inexact."  
  
"Then I shall be sure to apply a measure of inexactness to whatever you tell me. What else did you see?" His mother was persistent.  
  
"Hermione standing beside another person embracing that other person. Only probabilities. Not . not certainties or eventualities." Severus admitted.  
  
"Even so." Calliandra persisted. The silence stretched between them.  
  
"Let the boy keep his secrets, Calliandra. We will know the future soon enough." Serjanus winked at his wife.  
  
"It is a faulty vision, a travesty. She barely tolerates me. I feel nothing for her." Severus blurted out.  
  
Calliandra smiled and then said. "The heart is a funny thing. One day indifferent and cold. The next enthralled and blissfully so."  
  
"Mother, please, I'm a living, walking nightmare and that's on my good days!" Severus protested vehemently. "On my bad days, I'm worst than a monster. A relationship with me is hardly a walk in the park."  
  
"You were a monster, Severus. Were, remember that." Advised Serjanus. "By the harshness of your choices have you found yourself again Perhaps it is time to share that self with someone else once again."  
  
"I have never shared nor played well with others, Father, that you cannot deny." Said Severus.  
  
Serjanus moved closer to his son. "Even a sometime monster is deserving of some happiness, Severus. You owe it to yourself to get to know her. She is one of us now. Whatever happens, do not close yourself off from that possibility whether that is with Hermione or someone else."  
  
"And when it does happens, learn from your mother's mistake, don't hesitate. Just let things -" Calliandra was interrupted by Severus' laughing. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Mr.. Mr. Ollivander said the same thing to me."  
  
"Yes, I would expect that he has that particular lesson well learned."  
  
"Calliandra, please, that story is long past and best kept that way." Serjanus pleaded.  
  
"He has done the honorable thing staying away from Hogwarts all these years I'll give him that."  
  
"I don't know about being honorable, but Mr. Ollivander is not staying away. He's living there now."  
  
"What is this?! Minerva hasn't said a word to me."  
  
"It is their business, my dear. If Flavius has decided to woo her again, so be it. And if Minerva finds herself agreeable to the wooing, well, again so be it."  
  
"I can't believe Albus would let such a thing happen."  
  
"Mother, it seemed like it was Albus' idea."  
  
"How could he? How could he stand there and let it happen all over again."  
  
"If I remember correctly, Albus was first in line to kill Flavius - the old fashioned way, mind you. I never thought Albus had it in him."  
  
"I'm going back with you Severus. I want a copy of your working notes. I'll pick up our order at Flourish and Blotts while I'm at it, Serjanus. Severus, give me a few minutes to get ready."  
  
"In that case, I'll excuse myself. I need to get something in my room." Severus left the salon climbing up the stairs two steps at a time.  
  
Serjanus raised his hand out to his wife. "Calliandra, be gentle, please. If they have decided to reach for some happiness at this stage of their lives, who are we to stop them?"  
  
"I just want to ascertain Flavius' intentions." She took his hand in both her hands.  
  
"And if they are the same as before?"  
  
"Well, I'll just have to start a new line, won't I? I'm quite certain that it won't be a line of one for very long."  
  
"Calliandra, what about Minerva? It does take two after all." Serjanus asked.  
  
"Of all her men, Flavius is the only one that has ever mattered. She loses all sense where he is concerned. " Calliandra knelt before her husband giving him all her attention.  
  
"True enough. She has herself stayed clear of him all these years."  
  
"Yes, burying herself in her House duties and pouring all her energies into her students. Why doesn't he just leave her alone?"  
  
"Calliandra, don't . don't discourage Minerva if she has indeed decided to accept Flavius back."  
  
"Give me one good reason not to."  
  
"The cup of life is full of the bitter and the sweet. It is up to us to decide how bitter and how sweet we like it to be. Perhaps, Minerva and Flavius have now decided upon the measure of bitter and sweet that suits them. Who are we, of all people, to take exception to that?"  
  
Calliandra kissed her husband lingeringly on the lips. "Lesson and point understood, Professor Snape."  
  
Hermione collapsed on her bed dead tired. Her roommates hadn't come up yet. They were doing their homework in the common room. Crookshanks licked and nudged her face. With great effort, Hermione stroked his fur. "Oh, Crookshanks, you have no idea of the day I've had." She informed him. She flipped over on her stomach and opened her journal. As she opened it, a letter fell out. She opened it and read it. This was a ritual that she did almost every night before going to bed. No matter how horrid her day had been reading this worn, dog-eared letter always calmed her.  
  
Our dearest Hermione,  
  
Daddy and I thought about your questions and situation for a long time. From what you've said Professor Snape knows his subject but lacks the proper classroom manner to make the class a positive experience. You've also admitted that you've learned more from his classes than any other. Darling, one rarely gets both the cake and the opportunity to eat it. He is the teacher and it is his class. He has delivered on his obligation by imparting his knowledge to unwilling subjects. That is all that he owes you. You, on the other hand, must remember that you are not equals. He is the professor and you are the student. I must admit that your father and I are very much in favor of you having a teacher who does stretch your mind and abilities. We are equally concerned that you may be unhappy. We have some advice that we hope will make things easier.  
  
Be mindful of the time. Hermione, you won't always be at Hogwarts. Enjoy your time there, make friends, learn and grow, find yourself but do not let one person spoil the memories. Real life and adulthood will come quickly enough. It is your time not anyone else's.  
  
Hate the uniform. Respect the wearer. Chances are Professor Snape is well aware of his inadequacies as a teacher. Constantly pointing that out to him will have no effect other than making him more defensive. He must be respected for the fact that he is teaching in spite of his own discomfort doing so.  
  
Change rarely follows your timetable. Please resist your tendency to champion hopeless causes. You cannot impose a change only enable the condition or probability of it happening. Of course, you never know when it will happen. If it happens, good. If not, then it did not. Standing around waiting is a waste of time. Remember, it is your time not anyone else's.  
  
Apply the same patience to people as you do with your studies. You're our only daughter and we love you. But we are not blind either. Your single- minded steadfastness in pursuing anything that fascinates you is a source of pride for us. But people are not books or concepts that can be understood in one sitting or mastered given time. Invest the time to be patient and see them through different views and angles. In the doing, you might be surprised to learn a few things about yourself.  
  
Love always to our daughter of daughters, Mummy and Daddy  
  
Hermione refolded the letter tucking it back into her journal. She flipped to a fresh page and began to write. After a few minutes she was interrupted by a persistent pecking on the window. There was a school owl hovering outside. She opened the window and gave the owl a tasty treat. The owl readily surrendered its parcel. She saw that it was a small booklet as large as her hand. If the leather cover was any judge it was very old. She read his note tucked in the inside front cover: "If you recognize in me the lion in the shadows, then know that I do see in you the true swan in the rushes." On the next page was the book's title - The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Anderson.  
  
"But only in the dark and only during full moons, professor, but I mean to change that you'll see." She whispered as she turned the pages and lost herself in the story. Outside, it had begun snowing.  
  
- * -  
  
Author Notes: I've thrown more than usual into this chapter. As always, comments, questions and critiques are welcomed with open arms.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
  
Note: There are 2 stories in this chapter. First the actual chapter followed by a humorous, tongue-in-cheek take on the behind the scenes activities of IOS.  
  
The snow was knee deep and wet but none of that mattered. Not to the older man or to the younger one striding beside him. Their dark cloaks scraped silently across the wintry white expanse. Their boots tread over familiar paths. Occasionally, the older one would stumble but the younger would always be there with a strong bracing arm. Steady once more they would continue on with the strong wind at their backs. They reached the castle doors and entered without ceremony through its massive doors.  
  
"We are here at last!" said Salazar Slytherin shedding his heavy outdoor robes. Magnus Snape hung up his robes as well as his old teacher's. From the hearthside several students came forward to greet their teacher and his most favored former student. He acknowledged each one of the youngsters with a smile and a wave. "Good to be home."  
  
"Your timing is impeccable, Master Salazar, dinner has been announced." said a tall, swarthy young man of about seventeen. He extended a hand to Snape. "Sir, a pleasure to meet you. I read your latest treatise outlining the medicinal uses of asphodel. I found it illuminating."  
  
"Magnus, meet the first student of his year, Anton Marvolo." Said Salazar putting a fond around Marvolo's shoulder. Snape shook his hand. "He is one of my best and most promising students."  
  
"Naturally, I expect no less." Said Snape. "Well, Anton, how are you finding Hogwarts now that the renovations are almost complete?"  
  
"Much more peaceful, sir. Not to demean the students of the other masters but they are not as serious about their studies as they should be." Said Marvolo candidly walking alongside them as they made their way to the dining hall. "Except mayhap for the charges of Mistress Rowena."  
  
"I am in full agreement on that. It has proven beneficial to have the various classes in different areas of the castle. Like with like I always say." Salazar added.  
  
"I would think that the benefits of diversity would outweigh the social discomfort. We can all learn something from each other." Snape commented. "Tolerance for one thing."  
  
"In a social setting, yes, diversity is an asset but this is a school, Magnus. We are here to learn not to socialize overmuch. There are far more students now than when you were first here. It is more important than ever that those promising students such as Anton here not have their progress impeded by less able students." Said Salazar. Next to him Marvolo beamed proudly. "The need for tolerance is overrated."  
  
They had reached the dining hall and Magnus could see that his old teacher's words were true. There were indeed many more students of every race, age and nationality. The dining hall was the first and the biggest of the new rooms constructed. There were four long tables parallel to each other. On one end was the master or mistress and along the table sat his or her students. As the three made their way to the table set aside for Master Salazar's students, two young boys of about fourteen left Godric Gryffindor's table and approached Magnus Snape at a near run. Magnus smiled a rare smile as he held his arms out to the two disowned orphans he had left here a few years ago. They had been dirty, emaciated and frightened then but now they approached him with confidence and heads held high.  
  
"Sir! You should have told us you were coming." Said Hamish Macmillan.  
  
"Yes, sir, we would have prepared something for you," said the other.  
  
"And what would you have done for the likes of Master Snape?" asked Marvolo. His arms were crossed, his tone slightly condescending and his stance was anything but cordial. The two younger men visibly tensed. "Made him an urn or some such?"  
  
"I have several of Jarvic's works in my house, Anton. I find them to be a good blend of craftsmanship and practicality. He makes one for me every year and each year his skill improves." Snape answered. Jarvic's downcast expression changed back to his usual genial good humor.  
  
"So, the potter's son is good for something after all." Salazar said casually offhand. "Hamish is not so fortunate. His talents have not as yet surfaced."  
  
"Godric advises me of their continued improvement. I will be very proud to watch them graduate. Later than their age mates but they will finish and that is more important." Said Snape. He turned to his two protégés and said. "Go on, get back to your dinner. I will speak with both of you in the morning."  
  
"A bit later is an understatement." Said Salazar shaking his head. He caught Godric's curious stare at the small scene that had just been played out. "They were walking disasters their first year here."  
  
"They were also illiterate, Salazar. They have had to learn twice as much as the other students just to be able to attend class. A little more time is all they need. I did not come here to debate an old argument, Salazar." Said Snape. They had reached their table and Marvolo left to take his place further down on the left side.  
  
"No, of course not, my boy. Let us eat and please tell me your news." Said Salazar amiably as he sat down at the head of the table. Seeing the well- regarded but rarely seen Master Snape in attendance, the right side of students moved wordlessly down one seat to make room for him. "The good and the bad. Before it escapes me, I should tell you that my daughter Asara will be visiting me. You remember Asara?"  
  
"Yes, she started here my last year. Took very much after you from what I remember of her." Said Snape sitting down to the right of Salazar.  
  
"She was very taken with you then. To this day she has made no move to disguise the affection and esteem she feels for you. It is no secret that I had hoped the two of you would find your way to each other someday." Salazar advised. Seeing Magnus scowl at his remark he added. "Now, please, take it as advice from an old friend. There are worse things than being married."  
  
Snape enveloped his words with a hint of sarcasm. "You have been a widower all these years. If marriage is so agreeable why have you not remarried?"  
  
"Though I find myself agreeable to marriage, I have yet to find another woman who is agreeable to me." Salazar replied and both men laughed.  
  
You told her I was coming for a visit, did you not?"  
  
"I might have told her in passing." Said Salazar cagily. "The crux of the matter is I want her in safe hands, Magnus. I want her to be with someone who I know can protect her after I am dead and buried."  
  
"You are too healthy and far too stubborn to die, Salazar." Snape scoffed.  
  
"It matters not. Wizarding kind is still a minority in this world. Our kind have few havens that are truly safe. She is my only daughter, Magnus, and I have need to know that she will be content and secure. That is all a father wants for his daughter. At the very least meet with her, please." Salazar replied.  
  
Magnus nodded and in an attempt to move the conversation to safer ground asked "Speaking of children, how is her twin Atamar faring these days?"  
  
"That son of mine is seemingly showing some portent of the promise I saw in him long ago. You know of how I despaired of him when he was a student. Brilliant yet fickle. Inventive yet slothful." Salazar took a long drink from his goblet. "His last missive detailed the school he is planning to build in Bavaria."  
  
"Atamar and school? I admit to difficulty lending credence to such a possibility." Said Magnus tearing off two slices of bread one for him and one for Salazar. He placed the slice on Salazar's plate. "I remember when he apprenticed himself to me for a year. Wildly popular was he with the local people but he lacked dedication to the work itself."  
  
"My hope is that this school of his will be the purpose and direction he needs in his life." Salazar continued.  
  
"Per chance, maturity has made him wiser. I have not seen him for more than ten years now."  
  
"You missed his last visit three years ago. But you will not miss Asara's visit. She will be arriving tomorrow."  
  
"You are incorrigible, old man." Magnus chided his mentor.  
  
"I am nothing if not a relentless dreamer." Salazar poured more wine for both he and Magnus.  
  
"And a schemer!" said Magnus picking up his goblet.  
  
The two men clinked their goblets together. Anyone who watched them that night could easily mistake them for father and son so easy was their rapport and so apparent their mutual affection and respect. But not all witnesses therein found this association to be a happy one. Nay, in them envy and malice had found much fertile ground. In these would develop provocative seeds of thought so insidious as to sway and shape the hearts and minds of generations to come. If hindsight is a virtue then foresight is surely damnation.  
  
- * -  
  
Despite the light dusting of snow, the sidewalks of Notting Hill were greatly traveled. Students ran to catch the bus. Young school children chattered away about their upcoming holiday plans. Shoppers getting an early start walked along with purpose and anticipation. Hesitant lovers parted after sharing a night of sweet memories. Storekeepers opened their shops hoping fervently for a profitable day. All this Voldemort observed dispassionately staring behind drawn curtains from his third floor study. To him they were all chattel and cattle alike. To his mind there were no other uses for them.  
  
He allowed himself this one indulgence every morning. It was his chance to reflect, gather his thoughts and renew his purpose. Day by day, his form took on more definition and physical strength. With each passing hour his clamoring senses and appetites grew more needy. Soon, very soon he would indulge them but not yet, not yet. His servant, for such was how he saw him, Peter Pettigrew came into his study and stood waiting for the day's instructions. In an uncharacteristic burst of altruism, Voldemort had stopped leeching energy from Wormtail at night. This morning Pettigrew was awake, alert and in no pain. Voldemort's reasoning was entirely self- serving as he had many tasks for his servant and it would not do to have these tasks done sloppily if at all.  
  
"Good morning, Wormtail. You seem well rested." Voldemort turned from his ruminations by the window to face his servant.  
  
"I believe my insomnia is gone. I had the best sleep the last two nights." With that said Wormtail looked at his lord his expression eager to please. "What do you require of me today, my lord?"  
  
Voldemort took a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to Pettigrew. "I have many errands for you today. First, I want you to have those brochures printed. And then go - "  
  
"My lord, why do we not just conjure these brochures? Perhaps transform some parchment into -" Pettigrew was so engrossed on reading his list that he forgot to be subservient.  
  
"Wormtail, we are attempting to establish a legitimate business. To that end we must cultivate the surrounding businesses. What better way to make us known than by providing much needed commerce." Voldemort explained. "Positive word of mouth will serve us well much like it did Salazar Slytherin."  
  
"How so, my lord?"  
  
"Did you have a watered down curriculum at Hogwarts so as to cater to the weak-minded?!" said Voldemort with a sour note of exasperation. "In the beginning, Hogwarts was not as isolated as it is today. There were many muggle communities about. Now, in order to coexist in peace, Salazar wisely employed a strategy of good will. He was not known for such gestures. His main goal was to lull the muggles into thinking that Hogwarts was just a harmless school for the rich elite posing no threat whatsoever. He succeeded magnificently without resorting to hiding nor employing force but by simply pandering to self interest. Hogwarts bought cloth from local looms, harvests from nearby farms and employed muggles for non-essential menial tasks. We are following in his eminent footsteps."  
  
"Wise strategy, my lord." Wormtail continued to read down his list. He paused and asked. "Rabbits and hutches."  
  
"Yes, I thought you would ask about those. You will be raising rabbits in the basement. I have need of a regular and accessible supply." Voldemort informed his earnest minion. "For my new pets, Wormtail. Nagini too enjoys chasing one about as well. Make sure they are the largest breed of rabbits available will you?"  
  
"Yes, of course. Should I clear out the body this morning?" The second the words were out of his mouth he regretted it. His stomach heaved at the thought of facing the pets so early in the morning. . He just had to remember to control himself. Severe stress tended to trigger his transformations. He must not transform when the pets were about. No need to panic he told himself they were smaller than him anyway. But thinking about their small piercing eyes glowing a deep red in the dim vault was his undoing for below their eyes his mind's eye added the details jagged teeth, numerous and ever sharp. And the sounds they made were unforgettable. Sweat began to bead on his forehead.  
  
"No need. The body has been picked clean and the bones digested. There is nothing left to dispose of. I could only hope that Nagini would be similarly efficient." Voldemort smiled as one pondering a delightful curiosity. "They are growing faster than even I expected. Today I will be teaching them discipline and obedience. Before I forget, I will require an enclosed greenhouse on the roof. Add that to the list. Now go there is much we both need to do."  
  
Throughout their conversation, Pettigrew had been watching Voldemort very closely especially his face. Over the last few weeks he had been witness to his lord's transformation. Each day his curiosity grew. "Master, may I ask another question?"  
  
"What is it?" Voldemort held in his growing irritation but just so.  
  
"What kind of glamour spell are you using? I've never seen one work so well and for so long."  
  
"You believe this to be a glamour spell? Voldemort laughed heartily. "No, Wormtail, this is no glamour spell. My improving appearance is due largely to my continuing regeneration courtesy of Severus' work on my behalf."  
  
"Amazing! So this is what he has been helping you with, my lord." Said Pettigrew scrutinizing Voldemort's appearance. His face was still too pale and his nose was too pug-like but all in all his lord and master was much improved.  
  
"What did you think Severus was doing?" Voldemort was fully aware of the growing rivalry between Lucius and Severus, however, he had not expected any such foolishness from Wormtail. Voldemort's voice was soft and persuasive but Wormtail heard and felt the menace underneath the silk.  
  
"Not . not I, my lord. I would never question you." Wormtail explained. "It was Lucius. He's been asking me many questions about Severus lately."  
  
"What kinds of questions?"  
  
"Different things like how often you summon him and what kinds of things you assign him to do." Wormtail's reedy voice began to shake as he saw his lord's eyes narrow to near slits. "I never said anything. I don't know anything to say. I . I mean even if I did know anything I still would not have said anything to Lucius . to anyone, my lord."  
  
"The next time Lucius grows curious, send him to me. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, my lord. I will remember to do that."  
  
"Good, had you not best be about your errands?"  
  
As Pettigrew left the study he could not resist a parting glance. He thought that truly his master must be all-powerful to affect such a change upon his own person. It should not be inferred that Pettigrew was entirely stupid but he certainly was very slow to add two and two and come up with five. Fortunate for him his errands required far less thinking than actual doing.  
  
- * -  
  
Lucius Malfoy was at that very minute completing a transaction in a seedy shop down Knockturn Alley. The shop was an established purveyor of ancient books and writings but not very discerning. The items for sale were mostly useless and obsolete artifacts but now and again a particularly interesting item would surface. Today Malfoy had found and purchased a collection of reproduced scrolls of the writings of one of the earliest and most able proponents of Salazar Slytherin's philosophy Anton Marvolo. His purchase wrapped and paid for, Lucius Malfoy left the shop heading for Ollivanders.  
  
Mr. Ollivander however adept he was in presenting a vague but kindly veneer was nonetheless a shrewd man who missed nothing. Ollivander had claimed absolute neutrality during the first rise of the Dark Lord. However, Lucius strongly suspected that Ollivander's true allegiance were with Dumbledore and his ilk. It was best to not take chances. Before entering the shop, Malfoy schooled his features to a still, calm mask revealing to the world only that which he permitted the world to see. His mask slipped a little when he saw that it wasn't old Mr. Ollivander attending to him but a younger near mirror image. Who knew he had a son?  
  
"I'm Hugh Ollivander. How can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Hugh Ollivander.  
  
"I don't believe we've ever met." Asked Lucius eyeing Hugh closely.  
  
"We have not met but I make it a point to know all our best customers." Hugh informed him. "Your last purchase was a silver wand chain. Before that was a soft-sided silk brocade wand sheath suitable for a female to carry on her person unobtrusively. I am assuming that you are now here looking for a Christmas gift."  
  
Malfoy nodded approvingly at being recognized and catered to. "I see that I can hide nothing from you. Yes, I am looking for a gift but for my son this time."  
  
"Perhaps a wand holster would be to your son's liking." Hugh ushered Malfoy to another display case. "These holsters are quite versatile. They can be clipped on to a belt or on the inside of one's robe hidden but still in easy reach. Some of these models can also be attached on the ankle or arm."  
  
"Yes, I believe one of these will do." Lucius spent some time poring over the available selection. Never one to lose a possible opportunity Lucius made small talk. "It is a widely accepted fact that Ollivanders is the finest wand maker in the world. Have you or your father ever thought of expanding beyond Diagon Alley?"  
  
"We are quite content where we are as we are, Mr. Malfoy. Quality before quantity has always served us best. Our size and exclusivity have not proven to be detrimental." Hugh replied.  
  
"If you do ever have a need for investors, do keep me in mind." Lucius chose a sleek elegant holster in gilt silver with green piping along an edge. He paid for his purchase and swept out of the shop as arrogant and self-assured as he had been coming in.  
  
Hugh looked and made sure Malfoy was out of sight before letting out the laughter he had been doing his best to suppress. Mr. Malfoy's interest was so transparent. There were wand makers of every description all over the world but none could duplicate what made Ollivanders famous. Only Ollivander wands truly chose their owners. Over the years, many rivals and curiosity seekers had tried to ferret out the family's secret methods but none had ever succeeded.  
  
- * -  
  
Lucius had gone only a few meters out when he felt his left forearm tingling. He discreetly pulled up his sleeve and saw the Dark Mark glowing darkly at him. It was a summons. Quickly, he departed Diagon Alley and apparated to the farmhouse. Voldemort was waiting for him inside sitting on one side of the trestle table. Curious, he thought, someone's cleaned the place. Voldemort said the words to end the summons.  
  
"Lucius, there are some things we need to discuss." Voldemort began. He gestured for Malfoy to take the bench opposite him.  
  
"Yes, my lord." Lucius put his bundles on the table and waited expectantly. He did not miss Wormtail's obvious absence.  
  
"Lucius, as of tomorrow you will divest yourself of all of your current tasks and responsibilities. Give them over to Macnair." Lucius was about to protest but Voldemort's next words made any protest impossible. "Lucius, I am about to entrust to your hands a critical part of my plan. I need you to plan and execute the retrieval of the Lestranges and any of our other followers who still survive from Azkaban."  
  
Lucius was silent as he absorbed this new directive. Voldemort continued. "I have always said that I will protect and reward those who are most loyal to me. The Lestranges must be freed if only to keep the bond that is my word."  
  
"This is no ordinary task, my lord." Said Lucius carefully. "There are the Dementors to deal with. We don't know the exact layout of Azkaban itself. The Ministry has always kept that matter very vague."  
  
"You forget Lucius that we have or will soon have a personal guide through the corridors of Azkaban."  
  
"We will? " asked Lucius amazed. "Who would that be?"  
  
"Only one person comes to mind. The only one to escape from Azkaban - Sirius Black."  
  
"I see. Black has not been recaptured and his whereabouts are unknown."  
  
"We will not be hunting for Black. I mean to make him come to us."  
  
"Of course, we use the boy to lure him and -"  
  
"No, Lucius, not the runt. His time will come but not now. Our bait will be the one thing that Sirius Black could not long resist - Peter Pettigrew." Said Voldemort relishing every word he uttered.  
  
"Pettigrew? Wormtail?" Lucius was reminded once more why underestimating Voldemort usually proved lethal.  
  
"Black and Pettigrew have a long history. If Black was given another chance to kill Wormtail and avenge the death of the Potters, he will take it." Voldemort said. "I aim to give him that chance but on my terms."  
  
"You'll sacrifice Pettigrew and -"  
  
"Did I say that, Lucius?" Voldemort stood up, placed his hands on the table and leaned across looking Lucius in the eyes. "I ask and require obedience and loyalty. In return I do take care of all my loyal followers. Have you not prospered in the interim, Lucius? Your companies continue to get business that would otherwise go elsewhere. I may use any of you for my purposes but I protect my own. Is that understood?"  
  
Malfoy could only nod dumbly. Voldemort continued. "I also expect that my followers will work together not snipe at each other. Internal conflict is a waste of time. Do you not realize yet how prepared the old man is this time? All the time that I lost while he was preparing his own network of support. He knew we would meet again and he is preparing. As would I were my followers willing to sublimate their own personal aggrandizement for the good of all. I want to win. I need to win. But I am questioning your motivation, Lucius. You are either with me for my reasons or you are not."  
  
"My loyalty has never wavered. It is ludicrous for you to believe so. Who has been saying so? Snape?" Red faced and quivering with anger, Lucius stood and faced the dark lord.  
  
"No, Lucius. Severus has said nothing against you. By your own actions have you marked yourself. Stop imagining attacks where there are none. You will cease pursuing your agenda against Severus. I know exactly what he is and the value of his utility to me. You on the other hand have only just begun to prove your value to me. Now, I have charged you with a critical assignment. If you cannot or are unwilling to carry it out then I will find someone else who can."  
  
"I am more than willing, my lord. No one else will do this better."  
  
Voldemort sat back down. "You will have your chance to prove so. The Lestranges will be freed within the summer. It will take that long for us to secure and assemble all that we need. You will need to device the method for which Mr. Black will be informed of his second chance. It must be discreet and not known to the old man. The plan will be known only to the two of us and no one else -not Wormtail and not Severus. Black will come. I know he will. He will not be able to resist."  
  
"What of the Dementors?" Lucius asked.  
  
"That matter will be attended to by another of Black's old friends Remus Lupin."  
  
"He's Dumbledore's man. He even taught at Hogwarts."  
  
"No matter. Every man has their point of vulnerability, Lucius. Find that point and you have the man." Voldemort said.  
  
"He's a known werewolf, penniless and has no family. What point of vulnerability would he have?"  
  
"He is the one thing that he cannot help being - a Gryffindor." Said Voldemort with some finality. "They can be so predictably brave and self- sacrificing. An appeal to his virtue will have more effect than a bribe to his vices."  
  
"I cannot thing Dumbledore will just stand by and let all this happen." Lucius pointed out. "He has become overly docile in the council meetings of late. That makes me suspicious."  
  
"And well it should. The old man is feeling confident." Voldemort concurred. "Good. That will make his ineffectiveness very plain and all that more personally painful. This game will be played to the end make no mistake of that, Lucius, no mistake."  
  
- * -  
  
Focus of mind when applied can do great things. Focus when unapplied and left to its own devices can do nothing but harm. Voldemort pondered those thoughts as he studied his list over lunch. He knew his followers well. Lucius Malfoy had ability but no direction. Give him direction and he will achieve. Peter Pettigrew had much self-interest and little else. Appeal to his self-interest with helpings of flattery and he will finish his tasks. Severus Snape had changed little from when he first became a Death Eater - superb ability, unerring direction and focus but nothing to believe in that would harness all of his considerable capabilities. Make him believe and he is yours. If he was sure of any man, he was sure of Severus Snape.  
  
- * -  
  
Author's Notes: The Slytherins were overdue their own chapter. Any comments on Sirius, Remus or Magnus (who I have to admit is growing on me like a weed) ? The plots are entwined like vines on a trellis clambering its way leaf over leaf to the top. A humorous take on IOS begins below. Enjoy!  
  
- * -  
  
The stage was dark save for a single spotlight over the center where a tall mirror stood imposing and self-important. A small figure with unruly black hair entered from the right and propped himself before the mirror. Another spotlight came on to his left. It revealed another figure with shocking red hair looking quite dejected. Slowly the light increased and the stage was fully revealed.  
  
Harry Potter looked into the Mirror of Erised for about the tenth time that day. "I might as well be called The Boy Who Waited." He said the words out loud less for effect and more out of sheer frustration. "She's had twenty chapters already. How long is she going to take before my grand entrance?"  
  
"Who are you to complain, Harry? At least you know she's got some goodies for you coming up." Ron slouched leaning against a wall. "Me? I've got more of a chance of becoming Gryffindor seeker than getting a few lines to myself. Here I thought she was going to let me shine during the bludger to box strategy bits in chapter 15, but no! I got less than five sentences. Five sentences I counted and recounted."  
  
"You could have asked for a rewrite, Ron." Harry experimented with various color for his robes. She still wouldn't tell him the circumstances of his entrance. Very inconvenient, he thought. He had to know soon otherwise his wardrobe might clash with the planned scenery.  
  
"Fat lot that would do me. She hates rewrites." Ron ripped the wrapper of yet another chocolate frog tossing it to the growing pile next to him.  
  
"Of course, she does. They give her such awful migraines." Said Hermione coming in from stage left and set about preening in front of the mirror. She practiced a few glares and serene all knowing looks in front of the mirror.  
  
"Well, have you bonked the bat yet?" asked Harry.  
  
"Of course not! " Hermione shot back. "We haven't even held hands or gaze soulfully into each other's eyes. Honestly, get your mind out of the gutter."  
  
"You're losing it, girl. You're usually enjoying carnal delights at least three times a day by now." Ron observed.  
  
"She just believes in letting things happen naturally. Anyway, Greenhouse Four is going to last me for a long while yet." Hermione conjured up a chair and sat back.  
  
"Oh, who's in that scene? Is it very, what's the term, lemony?" Harry was such an incorrigible gossip.  
  
"Top secret flashback. Sorry. Just finished rehearsing it. She's not quite happy with the pacing and my scene partner was being difficult. He kept bringing up actors equity dues. She was quite put out by it." Said Hermione brushing her hair.  
  
A small moan made them turn offstage as a shadow crossed into the light just in front of the stage. Severus Snape came up the short stairs rubbing the small of his back. Hermione conjured a sofa into which he gratefully reclined. "Oh, that woman is a taskmaster! Captain Bligh has nothing on her."  
  
"What now? More demon summoning? More deception?" asked Harry ever the gossip. "More Harry?"  
  
"I wish it were that simple. She asked to see me privately. God help me, she had the LOOK!" Snape crossed his right arm over his eyes. The others recoiled then pressed forward eager to here more. "You all know what that means."  
  
"No! She can't! I can't handle anymore!" said Hermione aggrieved and very discomfited. "After that last chapter my nerves are shot."  
  
"Did she say anything about me?" asked Ron eagerly. "Maybe I can learn to read poetry for real and on my own. Something like Ode to a Bludger, perhaps." Ron was so taken with the idea that he asked for parchment and quill and began to compose his quatrains. "What rhymes with bludger? Dodger? Codger? Lodger? Lover, that's it."  
  
"It's my entrance! She's been building up to it all this time. I just know it!" Harry crowed. "Does she have the location yet? Anywhere but Privet Drive, please."  
  
"It means that some of us who have long toiled in obscurity will finally be rewarded." Professor McGonagall came in on the arm of Mr. Ollivander from stage right.  
  
"What did she say?" asked Ron.  
  
"That she's finally going to get lucky." Harry said snidely.  
  
"Well, why didn't she just say so then." Ron replied.  
  
"We've just had a long chat with her. She told us to prepare ourselves appropriately." Said Mr. Ollivander. "Oh, I'm not quite sure about my motivations, Minerva. And what did she mean by old-fashioned confrontation?"  
  
"I suppose she was referring to a duel. Albus has been pestering her for more heroic bits for himself so she's thinking about it." Minerva informed him. "Yes, he really gets tired of the wise old man with a twinkle about him routine."  
  
"Better him than me. A duel you say? I'll start polishing my wand immediately."  
  
"Let me know if you need help. Shall we discuss our PAST over tea then?" The two departed stage right cooing like doves.  
  
"Oh, fudge! Who'd be interested in those two old sticks?!" Ron groused.  
  
"We veterans have some things that you youngsters do not possess with the exception of Ms. Granger who is mature beyond her years," Snape began.  
  
"Really!? Do tell." Said Ron.  
  
"Panache, dramatic gravity and indelible style." Snape finished.  
  
"Enough about your billowing robes what about you?" said Harry who hadn't budged from his spot before the mirror and not so coincidentally center stage.  
  
Snape had had enough. He stood up and left down the center aisle calling out after him. "No one has the least appreciation for subtlety, presence and characterization." He melded into the darkness like no one else before and no one ever will thereafter.  
  
"Well, aren't you going after lover boy?" said Ron.  
  
"That would be grossly out of character and out of plot. We're not in love yet. Don't you read the script?" said an exasperated Hermione.  
  
"I only skim until I get to my parts," Ron answered. "Chapter 18 I was asleep. Chapter 19 I had what two lines. I didn't even do any funny faces."  
  
"It's text not a movie. Your faces just don't translate well on paper." Hermione explained. "Find some way to be useful."  
  
Seamus appeared stage right and strolled across the stage practicing his scales. "Do re mi fa so la ti do. La la la ti ti re.She's moved me from the EEE room to the EE room. Glorious progress!"  
  
Before Ron could ask, Hermione informed him "Triple E stands for the Egregious, Extraneous and Expendable characters room. Double E stands for the Peripherally Essential but Possibly Expendable."  
  
"Is there an E?" asked Harry. He really wasn't interested in anything or anyone who wasn't on center stage but he was the star and he had it in him to be magnanimous.  
  
"That's the Truly Exceptional room for canon and non-canon characters." Hermione would have said more but she was distracted by William Douglas holding out a clipboard to her.  
  
"Now, just sign here, please, Ms. Hermione." Douglass cajoled. "If enough characters sign up, she may move me from EEE to EE. I'm willing to become one of the good guys. I'm known for the quality of my repentant dialogue."  
  
"You're out of luck there." Said Hermione.  
  
"What do you mean? What do you know?" Douglas lost his cool demeanor resorting to abject groveling. "Am I being written out so soon? I could have done that dungeon scene better. I just got tongue-tied with Snape standing there. I mean who wouldn't?"  
  
"I know nothing. Save your breath." Said Hermione. "I just meant that it was premature. Only she knows where this is going."  
  
"You don't know? Come on, she has to give you hints?" asked Ron.  
  
Behind them the stage light began to dim. Ron and Hermione looked up curious. A voice of long suffering calm filled the stage. "Ok, Ron, you've had more than 10 lines now. Do be quiet and let me get on with the story." With that said, the stage faded to black.  
- * -  
  
Much thanks go to Werecat and Yvonne for sanity checks when needed as well as the necessary kick in the pants. Thanks to all who have reviewed and given much appreciated guidance.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21  
  
A saying reminds us that old dogs cannot learn new tricks. But old dogs have ways of making old tricks seem new again. Ways transparent to those of lesser days. The headmaster, Nicholas Flamel and Mr. Ollivander made their way to the Eyrie. Their odyssey had begun in the Room of Counsel then Snape's quarters and finally the infirmary but still no sign of the potions master.  
  
"Next to Filch Severus knows this place better than anyone," Albus said. "I remember him exploring all the odd places the times that Serjanus and Calliandra were teaching here."  
  
"Albus, is it true that Severus got into Gryffindor tower once?" asked Mr. Ollivander.  
  
"Oh, yes! He went missing for half a day before someone thought to check the one place that he should never have been."  
  
"How did he get in?" asked Flamel.  
  
"He asked the guardian portrait question after question after question. Severus would keep returning every time he was told off." Albus explained. "Eager to be rid of a troublesome pest, the portrait let him in. At seven years of age what harm could he possibly do?"  
  
They reached the Eyrie. Mr. Ollivander said the password. They found their quarry's lanky frame laid out on the sofa enjoying the emerging sunrise with Beethoven for company. "I am resting per the conditions of my early release. Your reason for disturbing my rest had better pass muster with Poppy."  
  
"She is well aware of our purpose, Severus." Albus began taking a chair and watching the dawn himself. Mr. Ollivander went to make them all coffees. "I will make this short. Are you up to performing the partner bonding?"  
  
"You have three willing students come calling." Mr. Flamel stood by the Library peering wistfully at the racks of tiny books eager to delve in but an unseen field repelled his advances. Here were things he had not known to exist or ever seen before.  
  
"I will need to exempt myself." Albus said.  
  
"That leaves Nicholas and myself." Ollivander asked. Sparks flew from the library as Mr. Flamel got too close to the protective field.  
  
Severus took pity on Mr. Flamel. "Which volumes would you like?"  
  
"The Rituals of Amon-Ra and the volume on the Lost Poems of Cattulus. So long have I been gone that I will have need of some such to turn Pernelle sweet upon my arrival. If you would be so kind, Severus." Flamel replied. Snape asked for both. One slim volume and a thick scroll of parchment rocketed out of the Library racks. With a slight flick of his wrist, Snape directed the items to Mr. Flamel. Flamel tucked the book under one arm and unrolled the parchment reverently.  
  
Mr. Ollivander levitated their coffees to the center table. "Can I have Catullus after you're done?"  
  
"Certainly, " said Flamel. "Tell us, Severus, how long will it take to teach us?"  
  
Before Snape could reply the door opened and in walked Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey and ex-professor Alastor Moody. "Good morning, all," said McGonagall. She took the plush chair next to Mr. Ollivander then casted a recorder spell.  
  
"As I said, Poppy is well aware of this session." Said Dumbledore.  
  
"You have to try a cappuccino, Alastor," said Madam Pomfrey started to make a latte for herself, a cappuccino for Moody and an espresso for Minerva. Professor Sprout was making a café American for Flitwick and an iced latte for herself. In the meantime, Flitwick arranged chairs for him and Professor Sprout.  
  
"Cap-what? I don't drink anything but what's in my flask you know that." Moody pulled up a chair by the others.  
  
"Just one sip, Alastor." Minerva urged.  
  
"Anything here is absolutely safe and delicious I might add, Alastor." Said Dumbledore sipping his own mochachino. "Minerva, have the house elves had any luck in replicating these varieties?"  
  
"Not yet. They are having difficulty gauging the taste and proper proportions just so." Minerva replied.  
  
"You won't regret it." Sprout called out to Moody.  
  
"The proof will be in the tasting. I had to wait until the ghosts had cleared the hallways before I could get about. Have we missed anything?" Moody asked.  
  
"Severus was about to explain what it would take to teach Flavius and myself how to do the partner ritual." Said Flamel.  
  
"Now that EVERYONE is here." Snape sat up and stretched. He walked over to the windows. He leaned on the windowpane, faced his audience and began to reveal yet another aspect of his recent experiments. "Let me tell you first how I created the ritual. As you know, a person's aura may increase in intensity and depth depending on age, mood and other factors. An aura also has an energy signature much like a fingerprint that is unique to every individual. With Sybil's help, I was able to create a small spell that recognizes the aural signature of a person. This spell is an intrinsic part of the ritual. Its primary purpose is to force the auras of volunteer and partner to reveal each to the other. Each aura is made to recognize and stay true to its match permanently."  
  
"There are spells and methods to see, identify, detect and create auras but I know of none that do the linking you describe. Energy is too dynamically ephemeral for our spells to have any kind of permanent effect upon it." Flitwick insisted.  
  
Snape sighed and studied their expressions. "Faced with this limitation, I proceeded down an alternate path to a solution. I realized that I did not have to be the one to perform the tasks I needed done only that those tasks be done by whatever means. We all know that besides mortals and a few magical beings, demons can and do manipulate magical energy as we cannot and in ways unknown to us. The obvious solution was to have a demon perform the spells for me. But demons are notoriously stubborn and not prone to grant favors to humans. So I -"  
  
"There is only one way and one reason why a demon would be so compliant. " Albus interrupted with a steely edge to his voice that caused the hairs on Snape's arms to rise. "It is one thing to drain energy from another being quite another to enslave it. Enslavement of a demon is the darkest form of sorcery, Severus. I do not remember reading any of this matter in your notes. Poppy, how much of this do you know? Anyone else know anything? You have timed this particular revelation rather late, Severus. "  
  
"I knew that a demon had to be enslaved in order to finish the ritual and assumed that it would then be released afterwards." Poppy answered. "What sane man would keep a demon around like a . a pet!"  
  
"As of a few days ago, I knew of it." Minerva added.  
  
"You didn't say a word." Ollivander looked at her.  
  
"It was part of a confidence." Minerva answered. "I do not betray confidences."  
  
"Why tell the rest of us only a portion of the truth, Severus?" Albus asked. "Why?"  
  
"You would not have approved of it. You would have tried to stop me. And if you had, where would we be now?" Snape glared back.  
  
"You should have consulted those with far more experience in these matters before proceeding." Dumbledore's eyes grew narrow and flashed dangerously.  
  
"There was no time." Snape insisted.  
  
"The perennial excuse of the reckless! There is always time enough in the beginning but not at the end!" Dumbledore lost his patience and his temper. Streaks of energy crackled around him.  
  
Snape faced the headmaster head on. "The results speak for themselves!"  
  
Dumbledore chose his next words carefully. "Take it from one who knows. You have made yourself blind to consequences that will not play out as neatly as the results!"  
  
"I know I have! Don't you think I know that! I accept it. Who gave me my choice of penance and atonement, do you remember?"  
  
Dumbledore's rage seeped out of him. "I did. If I had known that it would lead to this, I would have chosen differently. You have paid enough, Severus. No more is asked of you."  
  
"By whom? By you? By my parents? By any of you here now in this room!? By every person who died at the hands of the Death Eaters!?" Snape turned once more to stare out the window his long angular face tinted red by the rising sun. "It is my choice to ask more of myself. I ask and find myself still lacking."  
  
"I fervently hope that one day you will see yourself through another's eyes. Then perhaps you will be satisfied." Albus replied. "For now I require something of you and you are going to damn well do it. Look at me!"  
  
Snape turned to do as he was bid. "I know that I cannot stop you from following the dictates of your conscience and nature. But one thing I can do and require. From now on, you will make it a point to speak with Minerva, Flavius, Cera, Filius or Nicholas before you contemplate doing anything of this magnitude again. Then we as a group will discuss and decide. I want your word and oath as a Head of House. If you cannot abide by my condition, then I ask for and expect your immediate resignation."  
  
"Sartre was right. Hell is other people." Snape murmured. He stood still as a statue with arms crossed across his chest. His eyes were fixed on the opposing wall but all other eyes were upon him.  
  
"For good or ill, we all share the same box. You cannot get out and neither can any of us until the end. But you are bound and determined to stay in your own corner indulging in self-flagellation and suffering. Very well. That is as you say your choice. But it is also our choice and desire to help you in whatever way we can. " said Minerva.  
  
"And we would like to be the ones to provide you your exits since you will not do for yourself." Said Mr. Ollivander. "You need only step through."  
  
"Severus, do not see this as a curtailment nor as an indication of a lack of faith in your abilities. It is a gracious opportunity to share the burden." Flamel advised. Snape remained unmoving.  
  
"Though you may feel that dealing with Voldemort is primarily your penance it is not your sole obligation. We all here in our own way share that obligation." Said Flitwick. "As we all share the risks."  
  
"We cannot have secrets like this kept hidden no matter how noble the intentions. The risk to you is great but the effect on the rest of us and our plans is immense." Said Sprout. "We cannot have knowledge given out in tidbits and at your convenience. It is all or nothing."  
  
"Wouldn't you want some company when the acolyte of hell comes to take accounting of the slaver?" Albus asked. He knew more than the rest the effort Severus would have to make to bring down the isolationist wall around him brick by brick. There was a time that the wall saved not only his life but his sanity. The wall had to be chipped down now before the last brick became permanent. "Moral support at the very least."  
  
The answer when it came was low and hoarse. He slowly made his way back to the sofa. He sat down and looked at the headmaster straight. "I don't share well. But you know that. I'll try. I give you my word, headmaster."  
  
"Very good." Dumbledore sat back and breathed deeply before continuing. "When will you release the demon?"  
  
"I'm not going to release it. Not yet. I have other plans."  
  
"Severus, you are as a moth to a flame daring incineration to overwhelm you with every pass." Said Flamel shaking his head. "With every foray you grow more brazen."  
  
"Or more desperate. You have certainly inherited Calliandra penchant for thrill-seeking." Minerva said. Various coffees floated through the air seeking their intended.  
  
"Minerva, I have just endured my mother reading my notes and critiquing my methods. Nothing not even those here present is more perilous than that." Snape's wry comment broke the strangling tension in the room and getting some hearty laughs from his audience.  
  
"Let us get back to the topic. My stomach is telling me it is close to breakfast. You were explaining about auras, Severus." Said the headmaster.  
  
"Yes. Think of each individual's aura as one end of a permanent link or bridge which is established between volunteer and partner. This bridge is built with mechanisms in place - an incantation to communicate. an enchantment to lend energy one to the other and a spell to invoke when summoning the other link. I have found that for the bridge to remain viable the link must be constant with no variations on strength or consistency. There can be no ebbing and flowing. In addition to the major spells built into this bridge there are other spells to maintain and repair the link as needed. There is a side effect I did not anticipate. Apparently, the stronger the trust between the volunteer and the partner the stronger are the bridging spells and therefore their effects. The result is a deeper connection that borders on the empathic and at times telepathic. Minerva and Mr. Ollivander can better answer specifics if anyone has any questions."  
  
"Before I forget, here you are, Severus. My notes on the side effects as you requested." Mr. Ollivander fished a scroll out of his jacket and placed it on the low center table. "I have been chided in the recent past for my inattention to proper archival documentation. I am therefore making amends."  
  
"Have you noticed any changes to your spell casting or wand making?" Snape asked.  
  
"I have detected no ill effects other than the increased potency and more available energy to draw upon. After nearly destroying the armory, I have learned to reduce intensity by little over half."  
  
"Most of the volunteers have reported an increase of at least two-fold in their spell magnitude. The ones with higher concentration levels like Minerva, Vector, Poppy, Sinistra and Pince have reported a three-fold increase. They have had to become far more precise than the others."  
  
"When time permits, we must restudy this phenomenon." Flamel sat back his hands steepled before him looking intently at Ollivander, Dumbledore, Minerva and Snape in turn.  
  
"Pince and Sinistra have also reported a few other benefits. I hesitate to call them side effects. I believe the bridge mechanisms are formed in ways somewhat unique and ultimately beneficial to the recipient. I agree, sir, this should be studied in more depth." Said Snape.  
  
"Aural signatures indeed remain the same but are aura changes attributable to the phenomenon, Severus? Your blue-green shades are much more pronounced than before. Minerva's yellow is quite vibrant. Flavius is nearly blinding especially in the blue-green spectrums." Flamel observed. "New trick in your repertoire, Albus? A false read is all I get from you."  
  
"Nicholas, that particular color analysis is not directly caused by the side effect. I can assure of that." Ollivander was too much of a gentleman to elaborate further. During the short but meaning-laden silence, an unsaid but much anticipated announcement had been made. The potions master was quick-witted enough to deduce the exact reason and being a gentleman himself let that path of inquiry expire. How else could he face Minerva every day with that thought in his head?  
  
"Let's move on. We will talk later, Nicholas." Said Albus nodded at Flamel. "Continue, Severus."  
  
"During the last phase of the partner ritual, I invoke the demon and have it build the bridge then imbue the structure with the various spells. So, unless Mr. Ollivander and Mr. Flamel have similar demons in their charge, they would not be capable of doing the ritual."  
  
"I cannot say I have much desire for one in my inventory." Said Ollivander. "But if that is what's needed -"  
  
"A hundred things could go wrong during a summoning. Demons are unpredictable at the best of times." Poppy said.  
  
"I absolutely forbid the enslavement or attempts to enslave any more demons." Dumbledore said. "We cannot afford to fight a war on two fronts."  
  
"Wait. We have one demon already right? Why not share that demon's services amongst us all as needed?" Those words from Moody produced more than a few shudders in the room.  
  
"That need is not entirely palatable but presents a good idea to pursue." Sprout commented. "I am assuming that your invocation, Severus, is all encompassing. The demon must appear, acknowledge your summons and then be told what is required of it. Can we not craft an invocation with only one very tight purpose that would not require the demon's actual presence? Its presence would not be required since it would already know what it needed to do at that very moment. It need only carry out a single instruction."  
  
"What we need is remote control demon summoning." asked Moody. He had found his coffee to be much to his liking. It was half consumed already.  
  
"Remote what?" asked Poppy.  
  
"A muggle term, Poppy. I'll explain it later. I can only explain it as giving an instruction, having that instruction received and then the instruction would be performed with the desired and same result each and every time without fail." Moody elaborated.  
  
"Muggles have such tools, Moody?" Flitwick asked.  
  
"Yes they do. I've seen them. They use it for many things from activating devices to finding lost things to controlling mechanized objects that in turn fulfill their tasks for them." Moody explained.  
  
"Remote control is usually done via some mechanical device like a television and a remote hand held panel." Said Snape.  
  
"Tele-vi-sion?" asked Flitwick looking from Moody to Snape and back again.  
  
"Muggles can be quite inventive. They cope quite well without magic, Filius. I wonder if the reverse could be said of us. Could we cope without magic as well as they do?" asked Flamel looking on at the charms professor perched on a stool next to his chair.  
  
"Alastor, this remote control theory sounds like it is exactly what we need. We cannot count on Severus always being the one to carry out the ritual. He will not always be available. I want you to investigate this. Think further on making it a reality, eh." Dumbledore commanded.  
  
"How soon would you want something?" asked Moody.  
  
"You have less than two weeks, Alastor, to come up with something workable." Dumbledore stroked his long silvery beard. "Filius and I will be discussing the volunteer and partner pairings later today. The ritual will have to be carried out right after the students return from holiday. Now I propose adjourning unless there is other open business to attend."  
  
"One more item, Albus. Nicholas you have need of an assistant. I will asking a very promising student of mine Hermione Granger to -" Minerva announced.  
  
"Wait, Minerva, Hermione, I mean Ms. Granger's work load has to be considered." Said Snape. "She is already taking tutoring from me plus Club business plus a full class schedule. When would she be expected to sleep let alone eat? Perhaps we can find a Ravenclaw instead?"  
  
This unusually solicitous almost proprietary comment drew many a surprised look. Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles and peered at Snape as if seeing him for the first time. The order in which Snape ordered Ms. Granger's schedule was not overlooked. "You have a point, Severus. Ms. Granger would be quite willing however we cannot have her overtax herself either. Filius, is there one in your house whose motives are above reproach?"  
  
Professor Flitwick thought for a minute. "Several come to mind who can do the tasks required however none of them have the requisite emotional or psychological maturity. That person would also have to know of the Club and we have been very selective as to whom we admit in."  
  
"We have had great success with our two junior members. It is time we recruited in the younger ranks." Dumbledore shared a knowing look with Professor McGonagall. "There is another student here at Hogwarts who like Hermione and Neville know first hand what Voldemort is capable of. Minerva, ask Virginia Weasley to join the club."  
  
"Yes, good choice. Her potions grades have improved the last month. With proper direction she should be able to assist Mr. Flamel. And she is discreet." Snape agreed.  
  
"Severus, one would think you approved of my house." Minerva teased.  
  
"Some Gryffindors have their uses." Snape replied. "But only some."  
  
"That will make two Weasleys. Bill has already expressed concerns that he has to keep this matter from his parents and siblings." Said Minerva.  
  
"It cannot be helped. Arthur is too closely watched at the Ministry. Young Percy is also making a name for himself there." Said Albus. "Perhaps having Ginny around will ease his concerns. Any other business?"  
  
"Just one more, Albus." This came from Nicholas Flamel. "I have continued my study of Demos and his pod. Severus sensed that Demos lapsed into unconsciousness some time last night. By all the measurements we have, it seems that Demos is betwixt a deep sleep and the first levels of unconscious thought. The pod itself is twice its previous size. As of an hour ago, its rapid growth seems to have stopped. How long this stage of dormancy will last is unknown to me."  
  
"The husk is drying out. I believe that it will rip apart and open very soon. What will come out I don't know." Professor Sprout added.  
  
"How much time before it opens?" asked Mr. Ollivander.  
  
"I think imminent any time this week." Sprout answered. "I suggest we have either a house elf or a ghost on constant duty to let us know when it does start to open."  
  
"Very good suggestion, Cera. I'll see to it." Said Professor McGonagall.  
  
"If there is nothing else, breakfast awaits. Severus, the room is once more yours." Dumbledore stood up and the rest followed him out.  
  
- * -  
  
It had been three little words, five syllables and twelve letters. Four words if one counted the contraction. So easily came the words yet their effect was far from unremarkable judging by the reactions of the two people who had heard Hermione Granger say them at the same time in the same place - the Eyrie.  
  
After a filling lunch, Professor Snape sat feet propped by the fire catching up on all his delayed intelligence correspondence, papers that needed grading and various other administrative tasks. Hermione had spent most of her study period arranging her new desk to her liking. Then together with Neville she had set up a joint worktable in a little used corner of the room by the large windows. They stood by their worktable preparing the last tasks needed to complete their first official club assignment. After poring through several volumes and talking with Professor Snape and Mr. Ollivander a simple idea had formed. They would be making a leeching gem that would allow the Tree of Blessings to take energy from them while they slept in their own beds instead of being in the Sitters Room. The number of sitters had been increased to four a night to account for the Tree's increased appetite or as Professor Sprout had taken to calling it "eating for two." There were so few qualified sitters or those who could be spared from their other duties that those on the roster barely had enough time to recover before being rescheduled again. Additional sitters were desperately needed. Their little project was going to pay handsome dividends if it was successful. Professor Snape would monitor them when they cast their adapted leech spell on the two small gemstones contributed by Mr. Ollivander.  
  
"We'll need at least five drops of virgin's blood and some unicorn horn powder. I'll go to the stores and get the powder if you get the blood ready."  
  
"Right. Ginny should be in the common room about now." Hermione said as she opened a cubbyhole, took out a box and extracted a lancet.  
  
"Ginny?" Neville watched as Hermione dropped the lancet in a test tube and pocketed it.  
  
"I don't qualify." She was halfway out the door when she added. "I'll be right back!"  
  
The meaning of her words became clear. Neville's jaw dropped like a stone let fly over a cliff. "She doesn't qualify!? I don't believe it. Hermione!? Hermione?!"  
  
He wasn't the only one in a state of disbelief. But the other one was more adept at hiding reactions. Professor Snape had heard every word. The swan was proving to be full of surprises he thought. His disbelief had quickly turned to amusement. "Why is it so shocking, Neville, that it has happened or that the motivation for sex exists at all? Is Ms. Granger considered the virgin madonna of Gryffindor house?"  
  
"No, no, Professor. It's just, well, it's Hermione for Merlin's sake!"  
  
"And again, why is that so shocking? You both are at an age when hormones are making their presence felt." Snape finished one letter and signed his name clearly. He chose the next letter on his pile.  
  
"Hermione isn't as girly as the other girls are. She doesn't flirt or date. There was Victor Krum but that's it." Neville explained.  
  
"I would hazard that on this matter Ms. Granger is little different from others her age save for her level of discretion and reticence. Both of you are at an age when hormones are making their presence felt. Interest in sex follows closely on the heels of interest in the opposite gender. It is a natural pattern, Neville."  
  
"You sound like you approve?"  
  
"I neither approve or disprove. It simply is. Having any emotional bias or reaction over something that will happen sooner or later is illogical to me. When a boy loses his virginity, it is seen as gaining status in front of one's peers. When a girl commits the same act, it is observed to be negative rarely positive. In any case, one thing remains the same, Neville. How one deals with it before and after is one's own business." Snape had stopped reading and turned his full attention to Neville. "But I begin to see your larger problem and it is one we all have when dealing with Ms. Granger."  
  
"I have another problem?" Neville was now truly perplexed and it showed.  
  
"We presume too much based on face value and underestimate Ms. Granger who has the predisposition of turning our assumptions upside down."  
  
"Yours, too, professor?"  
  
"Yes, mine too. However, I am consciously trying to change that." Snape cleared his throat and returned to his reading and his own thoughts.  
  
Neville got his collection bottle ready as he thought of this new facet of his housemate who was apparently a girl and not just a walking encyclopedia. No, he amended, not a girl anymore. Hermione was a woman and whoever the bloke was or is was either blessed or cursed. The experience had not changed her from what he could see and that was more important. She was still the same Hermione of the steel-trap mind, crusading tendencies and bossy attitude. That was all he needed to know. He put the whole incident away from his mind as he left the Eyrie heading for the dungeons.  
  
- * -  
  
Hermione walked into the Eyrie very late that night for her first formal tutoring session with Professor Snape. Classical music was coming from somewhere near the hearth where the fiery logs cast the only bright spot in the room. A voice called to her from the sofa. It was Professor Snape inquiring "Who dares disturb my rest now!?"  
  
Hermione moved towards the sofa. "Hermione the duckling."  
  
"The duckling ought to know better." She saw his head rise above the seatback as he sat up.  
  
"Hermione the swan then." Hermione took her position sitting on the sofa back opposite her potions master and now new mentor.  
  
"Keep that thought. Are you ready to begin, Ms. Granger?" Lacking his usual teacher's robes or his overcoat, Snape was simply dressed in black pants and a dark green silk dress shirt. He faced her with his legs on the sofa crossed at the ankles. One arm rested on the back of the sofa. She realized the music was coming from the ebony hourglass sitting on the mantel. She remembered being fascinated with the multihued sand when she had first seen it. "Have a seat please."  
  
"I'm quite comfortable where I am?"  
  
"Must you be contrary?"  
  
"Must it always have to be your way?"  
  
"Very well. Stay where you are." He stood up and walked over to the mantel. He touched the base of the hourglass just once. The music stopped.  
  
"That is amazing! How does it work?."  
  
"Each sand represents a song." Snape held up the hourglass by two of its columns and walked around the end of the sofa to stand by her. He held out the hourglass to her. Sitting as she was on the sofa's back and him standing, their heights were not nearly as disparate than when they both were standing.  
  
"Each sand? There must be thousands in here." Hermione took hold on the top and bottom taking delight in the reflection of light against the kaleidoscopic sand. "How does it know what to play?"  
  
"To play a song you simply turn it over and say the name of the song you wish it to play." To demonstrate he covered her hands with his and turned the hourglass slowly upside down. "Classical, if you please?"  
  
"Serenade by Haydn." The hourglass vibrated briefly. The sand began to undulate and swirl once more in time and rhythm to the music. Though his hands were larger and surely heavier than hers, she hardly felt their weight.  
  
"The swan it seems is a closet romantic."  
  
"The lion hides in the closet, too. If I'm not mistaken, that was Romance for String Opus 11 I heard playing earlier." Her eyes were trained on the hourglass. His hands still covered hers.  
  
"Why this song?" Snape whispered more to himself than to her. Unlike hers, his eyes were not on the hourglass.  
  
"Promise not to laugh, professor." She looked up to him.  
  
"Never." He removed his hands from atop hers and crossed them behind him.  
  
"I was small about eight or so. I was watching a show on television." Judging by his expression, he knew what a television was. "There was something wrong with our set and sometimes the volume would just disappear. I was watching a movie that had a ballroom scene. All the ladies were in their finery. All the gentlemen were, too. The sound was gone but my mother had this song playing in the other room. I know this piece isn't a real waltz but to my mind they were dancing to this song."  
  
"Not a waltz, I see. Have you ever tested this theory of yours?" Snape crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
  
"No, I never saw the need." Hermione answered.  
  
"All theories should be tested, Ms. Granger, whether in or out of the closet." He looked down on her waiting for her decision. "I've seen you waltz adequately at the Yule Ball."  
  
Hermione spluttered. "You're not serious?"  
  
"I am surprised that you possess no curiosity whatsoever to see if the nasty git knows how to dance?"  
  
"I don't think of you like that." Hermione amended her words. "Anymore."  
  
"That leaves me to deduce that you are afraid. Afraid to have your theory debunked."  
  
Goaded, Hermione shoved the hourglass back into his arms. She moved purposely to the center of the room and waited. He put the hourglass back on the mantelpiece commanding it to begin the song anew. The music began to play. He joined her at the center and held out his hand to her. "May I have this waltz, Ms. Granger?"  
  
She curtsied. He bowed. She raised her hand to his. He held her hand in his. Her hand found its way to his shoulder. His hand fell to her waist. The first step was taken, a second then a third. Silhouetted against the tall windows and the sparkling evening sky beyond, they waltzed wordlessly through moonlight and shadow. One sweep, one circle all around the center of the room followed by two more. After a time the song ended and they parted. One stood embraced by moonlight. The other veiled by shifting shadows. One bowed. The other curtsied. They stood facing each other still as stone columns. Only their words were moving.  
  
"Thank you. The theory is proven."  
  
"Don't . don't look at me like that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you're not seeing what you think you are."  
  
"I see what I see and it's not all bad."  
  
"Don't delude yourself."  
  
"Shall I tell you what I see?"  
  
"It makes little difference to me."  
  
"I see a problem."  
  
"Only one?"  
  
"The one who is making all the difference doesn't believe it or see it."  
  
"There is no difference and therefore nothing to see."  
  
"I shall make it my mission to make sure you do see it AND believe it."  
  
"I thought you had written me off."  
  
"You refused to be written off. You kept doing one good thing after another. Very persistent of you."  
  
"It would be a waste of time. You need to focus on your studies not on -"  
  
"Know two things about me, Professor Severus Snape. First, I make time for my friends. Second I never consider that time wasted."  
  
"I seem to be learning more and more about you today, Ms. Granger."  
  
"Good, we're learning together." Hermione smiled. "You did commit to that."  
  
"I remember. I also know that we have wasted enough time with this music nonsense. We need to plan your study schedule. It's getting late." Snape said. He gestured for her to precede him back to the sofa. For the next half hour they wrestled with her busy schedule.  
  
Hermione left with a stack of miniaturized books in her robe pocket. The castle would start emptying tomorrow as students went home for the Christmas holidays. Professor Snape and Madame Longbottom would arrive in the middle of her vacation to talk to her parents. She only hoped that her parents would understand and be supportive.  
  
- * -  
  
Author's Notes: I have to admit to difficulty portraying Hermione. Though I passed thirty a while back, I still remember the ups and downs of the years between 14 and 16. Euphoric one minute and depressed the next and full of doubt all the time. Feedback would be appreciated on how you the reader see Hermione's growth in this story. Too implausible? Too many liberties? Remember, she's 15 as of this chapter.  
  
As always thanks to the readers and the reviewers. You make me blush, stammer and more importantly keep me going. The story is deep in the middle right now. I'm finding that the middle is far from easy but I hope to have avoided the fill in the blanks approach as much as possible.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
  
The bobby paused at the street corner. Under a lonely street lamp he lit up a cigarette. This side of Notting Hill seemed quiet. What do you expect, he asked himself, it is the middle of the week everyone's tucked in. He had noticed that there were fewer homeless vagrants than usual. The weather was getting colder maybe they moved on south. He tamped out his cigarette and continued his rounds. Three more hours till dawn and the end of his shift, he hoped the rest of his duty was peaceful. Maybe he could get home at a decent hour and actually have breakfast with the family for a change. He walked on down the street past the window of the block's newest business - New Day Travel.  
  
Six doors down he met up with a street regular who went by the name of Little John. His booming voice complemented his massive six foot three frame. "Evening, Officer Tuckridge."  
  
"Little John, still about at this hour? I'd expected you to be set up snug somewhere by now." Said Tuckridge. He offered Little John a cigarette and a light.  
  
"Yah, I found a bolt hole by the dressmaker's shop. I'm on my way there now." Little John cinched up his thick sleeping bag and canvas satchel bag. A small lantern hung on a strap on the satchel. He traveled from place to place and preferred to travel light. He took a long appreciatively drag on his cigarette.  
  
"Will you be staying around here, John?" Officer Tuckridge knew that Little John took odd jobs usually manual labor. He eyed the new satchel bag that Little John had purchased with his last paycheck. For people such as Little John their pride and dignity were the only things left to them. Tuckridge treated the homeless on his watch as respectfully as he could.  
  
"Well, been thinking of moving on fairly soon like Old Davey. I read in the paper that there was new construction being planned in the south. I might get lucky." Little John replied. "My sister's place is on the way. I'll drop by to see her probably."  
  
"Have a good night then and, if I don't see you again, good luck to you, John." Tuckbridge offered his hand. The giant of a man had a surprisingly soft grip as if afraid of hurting the much smaller man.  
  
The two men parted company one to complete his rounds and the other to find his rest for the night. A few minutes later, Little John positioned his sleeping bag next to a steam grate. The warmth and steam from the grate would keep him cozy through the night. His lit lantern gave off a small pool of light around him. He felt something brush against his neck. He swatted at it absentmindedly like one would to a fly or moth. He whirled around after a hard bump to his back. "Who's there? Show yourself! This is my spot but I'm willing to share."  
  
He looked left and then right. He was alone in the alley. He shook his head and turned back to his task. Busy and tired, he failed to notice the spotty shadows that streaked by against the wall. He stood up as he became aware of a high-pitched murmuring all around him like a dozen indistinguishable voices talking all at once. He looked left and right again with the same result as before. He was alone. He took off his coat laying it neatly over his satchel bag. It was then he felt the hardest blow yet. So hard he pitched forward bumping his head on the wall. He turned around quickly his hands balled into fists with adrenalin heightening his senses. He saw a something, a shadow for sure, dart to his left.  
  
"All right, enough of this nonsense. I said I'd share. Now, I'm just too tired to care." Little John walked a little ways to his left looking earnestly for the pesky miscreant. Two, three, four more steps deeper into the pitch-black alleyway. His temper was getting worse as his skin felt the chill. He could make out a faint red glow all the way at the end of the narrow path between the buildings. He quickened his steps. He was going to make sure that whoever it was learned not to mess about with him ever again.  
  
As he got closer, the red lights seemed to fade into the darkness. But he kept on. Whoever it was probably saw him coming and doused his lights. He got to the end. He felt about with his big hands. It was just a flat wall in front of him. He kicked around and felt his feet hit common street trash like empty boxes and plastic junk. Satisfied that he had scared the bloke away he turned around intent on getting some sleep. As he turned, he realized that he wasn't alone. In front of him were two pairs of red embers peering at him big as pomegranates. To his right and left he heard fluttering sounds. There was one pair of eyes on either side of him hanging just above his head and out of his reach. Little John took a deep breath and steadied himself. He hadn't survived on the streets for as long as he had by being stupid. He saw one pair of the red orbs shut and close. Ah, eyes not flashlights, he thought. His mind quickly catalogued the fact that the eyes were red with a white slit in the middle. "Nice night vision goggles you got there. Look here, I don't want any trouble. I didn't know someone already had this alley marked out. Just let me sleep here tonight and I'll be gone in the morning. All right, eh?!"  
  
The same unintelligible murmuring filled his ears but more shrill this time and so high pitched it blocked any other noise. Before he could cover his ears with his hands he found himself pushed against the wall. He felt and heard his shirt being ripped off. His nostrils flared as he breathed in a strong scent of sulfur and burning coal. He felt the edge of a serrated blade being run against his chest first one blade then two. Panic began to rise in his chest. His throat was parched and constricted. The damn eyes looked right into his soul. He tensed his body and squared his shoulders preparing to give as good as he got. He went to reach for the closest of his tormentors.  
  
His right hand shot out into nothingness. His arm hung motionless for a second before plummeting to the ground with his fingers still moving on one end and a bloody bone protruding out of the other end. Little John was screaming in terror for his life inside but no sound came out of his mouth. Blood gushed from where his tongue and lower lip used to be. His nose and one eye formed a grotesque pair of holes on his face. The twin blades had done their work well. Little John was now vivisected down the middle from throat to crotch. Through all this his one good eye served as witness as head lolled down and he saw the faint outline of movement as his skin was stretched open like a book revealing his still intact inner organs. Mercifully, he lost consciousness as his ribcage was snapped off rib by rib.  
  
Little John had found his rest at last courtesy of Lord Voldemort's pets.  
  
~ * ~  
  
The old man bent over his journal for one last look before closing it. His hand traced the length of the embossed dragon rearing on the journal's worn cover. As he did so, the dragon flicked its tail over the side of the book locking the pages to all save those it recognized. Its scales turned crimson before muting to its customary burgundy. Dumbledore knew he would have to put this aside unfinished. The question was when. Despite all the celestial instruments in his office watching the heavens for signs and portents or his many timepieces that measured more than time, he knew not the hand that Fate truly favored. He only knew his part and the course he hoped was the right one.  
  
"No, no, it is the right course. I know it is. It must be. It's the only path I can see." Dumbledore splayed a hand along his beard. It seems that sometimes even Albus Dumbledore had need of a confessor.  
  
Headmaster Dippet called down from his perch on the south wall. "Trying to redress past wrongs is always right."  
  
"Hear, hear!" added a chorus of voices from the other portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses..  
  
"You are doing fine, Albus, keep going as you are," Dippet continued. "We will answer to history on your behalf if need be."  
  
"Thank you. Do try to keep the slander to a minimum. That reminds me I need to get my portrait done. I must remember to tell Minerva to make sure I have a good commanding view." Dumbledore removed his journal to his private drawer "Armando, tell me again your account of Tom Riddle. You had more dealings with him as headmaster than I did."  
  
Headmaster Dippet looked thoughtful. "Shall I start when first his name appeared on the student list?"  
  
"Yes, please." Dumbledore settled back listening.  
  
It was the same whenever Albus Dumbledore found his resolve faltering or was consumed by a puzzling question. He would consult, confide and listen to his predecessors who like him had valued the school's welfare over their conscience in times of need. This was one of those times. On his desk lay a water globe only half filled. The water would be still for a time and then would undulate from side to side as if in response to some imperceptible movement. Dumbledore looked at it worriedly. The tremors were getting stronger and more frequent. He could only hope that they would continue to go unnoticed until the students were out of Hogwarts.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Professor Sybil Trelawney carried in a carafes of coffee, tea and pumpkin juice. House elves and ghosts were not permitted in certain areas of the castle unless they were under absolute instructions. The sleeping room was one of those forbidden rooms. She set the tray down on a round table and then moved about gently waking the sleepers - Sinistra, Vector and Pince. On the other side of the room, the Tree of Blessings was glowing and several new buds could be seen. Another tree still only a sapling was situated further down in the room.  
  
"Is it morning already?" asked Sinistra.  
  
"Thank you, Sybil." Said Pince.  
  
"How are Neville and Hermione?" Vector asked.  
  
"Yes, you're welcome and they're fine." Sybil answered. "Minerva checked on them earlier."  
  
"Very good. The leeching gems worked then." Vector rubbed his neck then his eyes.  
  
"It must have worked better than we had hoped. I'm amazed. I don't feel quite so exhausted." Said Pince pouring herself some tea. "And no headache."  
  
"Is it too much to hope that we may be able to sleep in our own beds soon?" Sinistra sipped her coffee.  
  
"Good morning all," Professor Sprout came in and heard Sinistra's question. "Severus said that he had a few last minute things to check first and then he would start making gems for the rest of us. Before you leave here make sure you have your legs under you."  
  
"Pardon?" Pince looked at the herbology professor.  
  
"The castle is experiencing random tremors with varying degrees of severity." Sprout explained. "I've just checked Demos' pod. The cracks are more pronounced than yesterday."  
  
"He's finally coming out then?" Sinistra asked.  
  
"Oh, yes. I think today is the day." Sprout replied. "No doubt about it."  
  
~ * ~  
  
Hogwarts buzzed with activity. Students chattered away about their holiday plans over breakfast that Friday morning. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving for Kings Cross later that afternoon. There were only a handful of morning classes to deal with before their holiday officially began. Ten minutes after seven, Professor Snape made his entrance. He stood there radiating stern disapproval like a gargoyle atop a spire of Notre Dame surveying the undeserving multitude in attendance. His convalescence had changed him little physically. He was still Severus Snape of the dark locks, lanky frame and arresting but not handsome face. Down one length of the Slytherin table, he progressed with hands held behind him looking straight ahead. He moved with the assured grace of a sleek predator aware and satisfied with his place in the world. His form fitting clothes and robes cut to millimeters above the floor added to the perception of his elegant and effective predation. In his wake the chatter at his house table died half due to his surprise appearance and half to the charged intensity evident in his every stride. His fellow teachers eyed him with interest. Dumbledore held his smile in check. He could see that Severus was attempting his best "put the fear of Snape into them" routine.  
  
Instead of taking his seat at the high table as expected, Professor Snape stopped at the head of his house table and glanced at each and every Slytherin saying nothing but noting everything. The Slytherins dared not openly squirm under their head of house's silent scrutiny. To squirm was to show weakness. Outward displays of weakness had no place in Slytherin house. Private weakness was a wholly different thing.  
  
"I see that my house has forgotten the proprieties of a house review." Snape snapped. His voice was ever his instrument and his cadence and diction was employed to predictable effect. All the Slytherin students rose amidst a clatter of dishes and tableware. Tugging and straightening their attire, all stood at attention by their benches eyes on their head of house. Snape began to prowl down one side of the table. He addressed each by name. To some he nodded. Any student so blessed stood even straighter. Several times, he paused to adjust a tie or pat down a robe. He toured around the entire table and addressed them from the head of the table once again. "I have been unable to fulfill all the usual requests due to my sudden but necessary absence. However, I have fulfilled at least one of my usual duties."  
  
As if on cue, school owls swooped down in a phalanx across the length of the Slytherin table. "These are your midterm reports. I expect them returned with at least one parent's signature." With that said, Professor Snape made his leisurely way to his seat at high table not needing to see but hearing the eager ripping of envelopes. A chorus of thank you's fell upon his ears. He answered them with one brief nod before sitting down to his own breakfast. He knew the notices would be result in a good deal of parental approval. His students' holidays would get off to a good start that much he could give them.  
  
The Slytherins sat down. As one they had until now remained standing waiting for their head of house to be seated before taking their own seats again. Strength was the Slytherin way and that was marked by discipline and deportment at all times. They could be rude and uncivil but manners never failed them. The normal hum of conversation resumed in the hall.  
  
"What was that all about?" asked Dean Thomas.  
  
"That's a tradition from the old times. The founders used to do the same thing whenever there was cause for public presentations and such" commented Neville looking up briefly from something he was writing. Though Neville's new study habits had been noticed and remarked upon by his housemates few truly believed his transformation. A few inquisitive looks came his way.  
  
Hermione looked up and down the table at her fellow fifth years and came to Neville's rescue. "It's in Hogwarts a History. You've been here how many years, has any of you read it?"  
  
"Obviously only you and Neville have." Said Ron grinning crookedly. He sat opposite Harry and Hermione. "Say Hermione can you look over my history essay before I turn it in?"  
  
"History essay? Oh, no! The essay on Wizardry in the Renaissance period is due today isn't it?" Hermione pressed her hands to her temples. "I completely forgot!"  
  
Now, if Neville's studiousness raised a few eyebrows, Hermione's forgetfulness caused outright slack-jawed stares. "What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You've been forgetting things a lot lately."  
  
"Just had things on my mind, Harry." Hermione rummaged in her huge bag for some parchment. She found her quill first. She hauled up her bag and peered about for the elusive parchment. Seeing her frustrated search, Neville handed her a fresh scroll. She accepted it without a word. "I'll just have to finish it during potions."  
  
"If Snape catches you, you've had it." Said Seamus who was sitting beside her. "I can just see you with books open on the work table writing away madly."  
  
"It's already in my head, Seamus. I won't need reference material." Hermione explained as she started in on her essay.  
  
At this Neville again looked up from his scribbles. "Hermione, you mean you had already planned out what you were going to write so you don't need to look up anything, right?"  
  
"Oh, right you are, Neville. You're absolutely right." Hermione realized her gaffe. She did have hundreds of years worth of reference in her head ready to be recalled at any time thanks to the Eyrie library. She stifled a smile realizing for the first time that for a change the library followed her not the other way around. She would master the memory exercises professor Snape had assigned to her over the holidays. He had briefly demonstrated to her how to mentally browse the library and its contents. The experience had left her wanting more.  
  
"You're aiming for a detention, Hermione." Said Harry on her other side. "If it was Ms. Delacour you wouldn't have a problem."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry, Professor Snape won't mind as long as I finish whatever potions assignment we're having. Besides, if I get detention I get detention." Hermione replied starting her essay between bites of toast and jam. Unfortunately, an owl picked just that moment to come crashing into the table. Errol lay there breathing heavily beside a fallen pitcher of juice. Hermione's parchment was half soaked by the spreading pool of pumpkin juice. "Oh, bother! Look at this!"  
  
"He's old, Hermione," said Harry trying to mop up the spill that was now starting to drip on to the floor and Hermione's robe. "Not his fault."  
  
Ron untied the message on Errol's claw. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Really."  
  
"Well, is there anything you intend to do other than apologize ?!" Hermione stood up wiping her robes. "Get a new owl perhaps?"  
  
"I said I was sorry." Said Ron. "It's just a bit of juice. No need to throw a wobbler about it."  
  
"That's not the point, Ron!" Hermione used a drying spell on the wet parchment. " Oh, never mind, Ron. Sorry. Ignore me. I'm being nettlesome is all."  
  
"And just a bit moody too." Ron read his letter saying the highlights out loud. "Harry, my mum says she's picking us up at Kings Cross then we can stop by Diagon Alley for some last minute shopping. Hermione, you're invited to come over anytime during the holiday."  
  
"Fantastic! I still have a few presents to pick up." Said Harry while he fed bacon strips to Errol. "I don't know what to get for my godfather or Remus for that matter."  
  
"Thank your mum for me. I'll have to let you know. I don't know what plans my parents may have." Hermione put her quill back in her bag and spied the edge of silver and cream envelope tucked into a book. She groaned.  
  
"What is it now?" Ron asked her. He eyed the other letter in his hand marked for the headmaster. It was probably from Bill he thought.  
  
"Nothing. Something else I forgot. I guess I really do need a holiday."  
  
The blow up at the Gryffindor table did not go unnoticed. Crabbe pointed to Hermione. "Some commotion there with the Potters Three."  
  
"Who cares?! This is important. This is worth a few galleons in my pocket!" crowed Draco. He read aloud the brief note written in Snape's bold handwriting. Perhaps this would make his father forget that he wasn't the top student of his year. "Draco has shown a marked studiousness so far this year. His essays have displayed assured analysis and reasoning. He has, I am told, high marks in Charms and Astronomy. I am looking forward to continued improvement. He is scheduled to complete several extra credit assignments when he returns."  
  
"I've shown some initiative it says here," quoted Gregory Goyle from across the table. "That's good, isn't it?"  
  
Before Draco could form a reply to Goyle's question, the ground beneath began to roll like a ship adrift on a calm sea unsettling but not turbulent. Tea and milk sloshed in their cups. Morning buns tumbled from their piles. The shaking only lasted a minute or two. The headmaster stood up and addressed them all. "You all remember when I said that Hogwarts would be undergoing some renovation over the Christmas holidays. The reasons for these renovations have just been amply demonstrated. The foundation is settling a bit. No one need be alarmed. Ignore these small events as best you can."  
  
Draco grinned upon hearing the announcement. Here was yet another piece of information he could use to his advantage. His Christmas holiday was going to be profitable indeed.  
  
- * -  
  
The note was clear enough the first time Dumbledore had read it. He read it out loud now for the benefit of his audience - Professor McGonagall, Mr. Ollivander, Professor Moody, Professor Flitwick and Nicholas Flamel.  
  
Albus,  
  
I know there's something going on over there. I suspect you're keeping me well away from it. Molly and I fully understand. You have our full support no matter what reason. I have to tell you that Molly and I feel much better knowing that Bill will be under your wing over there instead of off by himself in Egypt.  
  
Things are hopping at the Ministry. Lucius has practically been living in the reference library with that lackey Douglas assisting him. He's asking about a lot of strange things - history of Hogwarts, Azkaban and the Founders. Percy informs me that Fudge is mulling over implementing stronger security measures at Hogwarts. The Department of Magical Measures and Metrics has issued a report citing numerous unexplained surges of magical energy in the vicinity of Hogwarts. Crawford, the head of 3M, says the measures go off the scale. Percy will try to get more information out of them. You'll be getting a summons soon I would think.  
  
Send Errol back with your response. Also, please have Hagrid give him some of that owl tonic like before. He'll be like a new owl when he gets back.  
  
Regards, Arthur  
  
P.S. I've lost track of Moody and Arabella Figg. Know where they could be? And, Mr. Ollivander seems to be leaving the store more and more.  
  
"Good man that Arthur," commented Moody stroking Fawkes feathers and feeding the phoenix some treats. "Nice of him to check on me. What's this about energy surges here?"  
  
"It's our companions, Alastor, despite their size their energy signatures are significant and the spell energy a volunteer now wields is much greater than normal. The castle mask the signatures when inside but outside is another story." Professor McGonagall explained. "That's it then no more practices in the forest."  
  
"So, Malfoy has been tasked with the Lestranges' break out of Azkaban, interesting." Flamel murmured.  
  
"Albus, let us put up dampers around certain areas in the forest. We need to practice and the forest is the only place." Flitwick urged from his perch next to Dumbledore's main telescope.  
  
"Agreed, Filius. Alastor, see to it please." Said Dumbledore.  
  
"There must be a way for us to know more of what they're planning." Said Moody. "How else can we plan a counter strategy?"  
  
"Severus cannot take any more chances. He has left himself far too exposed and vulnerable already." Dumbledore answered. "It has taken a great deal of ingenuity on Severus' part to retain and maintain his position such as it is."  
  
"We need someone else on the inside, Albus, another pair of eyes and ears however indirect." Ollivander volunteered from his seat between Flamel and Minerva. "Lucius Malfoy has asked about an investment interest in the shop. I might sound him out."  
  
"Flavius, Lucius will strongly suspect you to be on our side if he doesn't already," Flitwick said.  
  
"Yes, probably. But he won't know that I know that he knows." Ollivander stood up and moved to sit on one edge of the headmaster's desk. "I've been thinking for a while now that we expend so much care to keep Severus' cover intact that we have overlooked an obvious alternative. Why not keep Lucius and Voldemort busy looking at another direction? Look, I know that they will know or suspect my purpose and motives. Let them. Sometimes the best way is to not hide at all."  
  
"So, you will play along and entice Malfoy to invest in the shop?" Flamel asked.  
  
"That is one way but I have another option in mind which should arouse less suspicion. Minerva told me of the events that occurred after young Mr. Potter was transported to Voldemort. The two brother wands cancelled each other out. Ying and yang. Romulus and Remus. The two faces of Gemini. Voldemort will not be able to do any real damage to Mr. Potter with that particular wand."  
  
"How sure of that are you, Flavius?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Very. Those two wands are unique in that both contained feathers from the same phoenix, Fawkes in this case, and were the only two made in that manner embodying the contradiction of the phoenix itself - the cycle of death and rebirth.. If one wand intends death then the other perforce intends life. If one intends to hurt, the other seeks to heal."  
  
"Voldemort will use another wand then." Moody interjected.  
  
"He certainly could, Alastor. However, he is no ordinary wizard not after all his transformations and so no ordinary wand will do. Unless he has mastered spell casting without a wand, he will need an instrument that can harness and focus his energy appropriately. I propose to make it known that I am of a mind to create a staff majestix. I will declare myself open to commission work."  
  
"A custom Ollivander staff?! Excellent tactic, Flavius, and undoubtedly attractive," Dumbledore complimented.  
  
"If it is anything like what you made for me, Flavius, Voldemort will not be able to resist." Said Flamel.  
  
"I expect to be approached indirectly, Albus," Ollivander replied. "If I am, we are in. To make it sweeter I will add that I am retiring and this is the last wand I will ever make. My last will be my best."  
  
"Flavius, he'll have you killed after it's done," Flitwick pointed out.  
  
"That is a possibility that Minerva and I have discussed and planned for." Ollivander answered.  
  
"I can monitor Flavius' activities to a point. If he is ever in absolute danger, I hope to be able to sense it and summon him to me immediately." Professor McGonagall looked at Ollivander. "We are fully aware of the risks."  
  
"Still dangerous. Can you pull him out before the killing curse hits him?" Moody asked.  
  
"We've been practicing." McGonagall replied. Ollivander moved to stand behind her chair. "The summoning is near instantaneous. We're also hoping that being a partner will lessen the effects of Avada Kedavra."  
  
"Albus, Severus keeps to his own counsel on matters between you. I finally realized the true scope of Severus' activities." Ollivander took a deep breath before continuing. "We cannot rest all on his shoulders or on young Mr. Potter or even on you. We must explore alternatives while we have the time. Let me try to get close to them. I can at least keep a closer eye on Lucius. Just let me try, Albus. What can we lose in the trying?"  
  
"Plenty. He won't be easy to fool, Flavius. You are both willing to pursue this no matter the consequences?" said Dumbledore looking directly at his deputy.  
  
"Of the necessity we agree. I can only hope for good favor among pawns, players and petty pretenders." McGonagall gave Ollivander's proffered hand a squeeze.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Potions class that morning was entirely predictable. Hermione finished her potion early. Snape snapped at the littlest thing. The Gryffindors lost points. The Slytherins won points. Hermione tried to finish her history essay. And of course, Professor Snape caught her.  
  
"Ms. Granger, hand it over please," Hermione rolled her parchment and held it out to Professor Snape. Snape unrolled it. "History work during a potions class. Apparently, the prospects of the holidays has addled even your brains and good sense, Ms. Granger. What say you?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Guilty as charged."  
  
"Very well. Get your things and come with me. You will be serving your well-deserved detention now. You will receive no marks for today's class."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Hermione.  
  
"The rest of you back to your own work!" Snape led Hermione to the storage room and closed the door. He made sure the door was completely locked before turning around. He tipped up her chin and looked at her eyes and face. He did not see any apparent distress. "How do you feel this morning, Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Professor McGonagall and Nurse Pomfrey beat you to us this morning." Hermione explained.  
  
"I know they did. I was asking about your overall state. It's not like you to sneak homework like this. Did you not have enough time? I'll speak with Binns and -"  
  
"No, no, don't bother. My fault. I forgot."  
  
"It looks almost done." Snape placed the scroll on the table.  
  
"It is, maybe, another ten minutes or so."  
  
"All right. Lock this door when I leave and finish this. Come out at the end of class."  
  
"Yes, professor."  
  
"And Ms. Granger well done on the gems. The headmaster is planning to give you both medals for distinguished service to the school."  
  
"I suppose that's all right but who would I show it to?" Hermione rummaged in her bag. "Here, at last. Please take it off my hands!"  
  
Snape took the silver and cream envelope she held out. "Ah, the forgotten letter. Thank you, Ms. Granger."  
  
~ * ~  
  
The workroom's windows were dark glass keeping the room dim even in the brightest parts of the day. Heavy damask curtains were hung to keep out even more light. The only light sources came from two lamps on the opposite ends of the worktable. A trapeze bar hung half the length of the table. On the far end sat a cage of small mice. Peter Pettigrew came in carrying four rabbits in a closed cage. It was time for lunch. His master's pets had a very strict schedule and diet.  
  
"Look at him, Wormtail. It's only been a few hours but see the firm musculature. Look, the wing claws are already grappling. He's already fighting me off." Voldemort chuckled as he tickled the creature mewing softly on his worktable. He traced circles on the soft still hairless underbelly then drifted to examine the membranous wings. In two weeks aided by growth spells, its wingspan would grow to two meters long. In little over a month, the wingspan would nearly triple.  
  
"Yes, yes, quite promising," Wormtail tried to keep himself from fidgeting. The baby on the worktable looked harmless but its enormous sire hanging upside down on the trapeze bar was a different story. Vespasian kept his beady scarlet eyes on Wormtail. Wormtail didn't dare move knowing that the slightest movement could provoke his master's favorite pet into a killing frenzy.  
  
"Eventually, if genetics holds true, this one's offspring will be even stronger. Well done, Vespasian." Voldemort took a squeaking mouse from the cage and held it aloft in front of the giant bat. Despite the name, one could hardly classify Vespasian as a normal bat. Voldemort had mutated and transformed a group of male and female bats. The hapless mouse was swallowed whole. Wormtail tried not to notice the ensuing sounds of bones being crushed like wood kindling. "What shall I name you little one? You look to be the most feisty of the newest pups, aren't you?"  
  
"Another Roman emperor p-per-perhaps," Wormtail offered. His eyes strayed towards the open door of the room vault. Inside were two more gravid females Hera and Livia. They were kept away from the male bats in the greenhouse while they were gestating. Voldemort personally fed and cared for them.  
  
"Yes. This one is going to be a leader. I can feel it." Voldemort turned the baby over and made some quick measurements. He said the measures out loud and an auto quill dutifully transcribed them on to his working notes. "I believe I shall name you after Little Boots or as history knows him best, the emperor Caligula."  
  
Voldemort pricked the index finger of his left hand. He coaxed a stream of blood out. He then tipped his finger over Caligula's mouth. The blood was lapped up quickly Caligula curled his wings and held on to his master's hand with his still immature talons. If one looked closely one could see the telltale serrations on the talon's edges. Voldemort hardly felt the rows of tiny sharp teeth of this newborn. He stroked its belly as it sucked harder and drank greedily. "Yes, drink your fill, my little boots. Grow strong and you shall serve me well."  
  
~ * ~  
  
The heads of houses accompanied the headmaster and headmistress in bidding the students goodbye that afternoon. The last carriage had just gone past the gates when the castle experienced the strongest tremor yet. This was followed by an ear-splitting crack and another longer lasting quake. They rushed as one to Snape's dungeon quarters wands ready. The bedroom was a shambles. One half of the pod lay on the bed. The other half was on the floor. Large shards lay scattered everywhere else. There were small pools of water about the room. Flames engulfed one side of the bed. They choked on the smoky haze whirling about the room.  
  
Snape led them in. "Demos! Demos! Where are you? Are you all right?"  
  
A shape rose in front of him. Behind him, Snape heard the headmaster say "Illuminatus Orde" and the room was bathed in soft almost gentle light. The shape took form and it ran towards Snape. Snape found himself being hugged by his former shadow.  
  
"You got me out just like you said, Severus! Thank you!" Demos' eyes shined. Robbed of speech, Snape could only stare at the near-mirror image of himself standing nude before him. Yes, the shadow had a real face now. Demos was oblivious to the image he presented. He was too busy saying hello to all his friends now crowding around him. "Hello, headmaster, professors. How are you?"  
  
"We should be asking you that question, young man," Dumbledore looked his fill. Demos reminded him of a young Severus fresh out of university and full of promise. The only difference he could see right off was that Demos had hazel eyes instead of black ones like Severus'. Of course, there was the hair, too. Demos' thick wavy hair fell just above his buttocks.  
  
Professor McGonagall conjured a cloak and slipped it around Demos' shoulders. "Let's take you to the infirmary shall we?"  
  
Snape shook himself out of his reverie at last. "Yes, we must do that. Come on."  
  
"All right. I'll race you there!" Demos fairly bounded out of the circle they had formed around him. He nonchalantly passed right through the wall.  
  
Flitwick voiced all their thoughts for them. "He looks human enough but not ."  
  
"Apparently," Professor McGonagall added in a tone drier than sawdust.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Professor McGonagall paused before entering Professor Snape's classroom. She and Albus had drawn lots to see who would have this duty. She found the potions master working behind his desk.  
  
"Severus, what's the matter?" Professor McGonagall stepped around the large desk.  
  
"Nothing, Minerva." Severus peered at a piece of parchment pretending to read but not really making out the words or letters.  
  
Minerva leaned over his shoulder and turned the parchment in front of him right side up and placed it in his hands again. "Really nothing? Since when has it become fashionable to read upside down."  
  
Snape put the parchment down. "I suppose nothing I say will be very convincing."  
  
"Tell Aunt Minerva all about it." Professor McGonagall fluffed up a pillow before sitting down in the chair with the pillow behind her.  
  
"Don't make yourself comfortable on my account," said Snape.  
  
"You were very preoccupied at dinner."  
  
"Surprised you noticed. It looked like Demos was keeping everyone entertained."  
  
"He was delightful. Did you see his face when he bit into his first ice cream? Absolute wonderment."  
  
"Yes, the discovery of his taste buds has quite paralyzed him. I left him with Dobby in the kitchens sampling anything and everything. I predict he'll have a stomach ache before the night is out."  
  
"Yes, let him enjoy himself now. Nicholas can't wait to examine him tomorrow. That takes care of Demos, what about you? What has paralyzed you?" Snape kept silent.  
  
"You may tell Albus that I'm fine. Just a little tired. Demos can be a handful. Now more than ever."  
  
A long silence fell between them. Professor McGonagall stood up. "All right I get the message. You obviously don't want to talk now. But, Severus, promise me we'll talk when you're ready."  
  
Snape nodded. "After the holiday, Minerva. I need time to think."  
  
"Very well. Have a good night, Severus." Snape waited until his colleague was well out of his office. He opened a drawer and took out his mother's letter. He read it again for what seemed like the twentieth time. Still no answers came to him. Instead question after question did. Questions he hadn't thought to ask that now beggared for answers.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Author's Notes - Yes, a bit short where Demos is concerned. But he gets more to do next chapter and a new name besides. I'm debating on his hairstyle. Sorry for the late updating. Real world stuff demanded attention.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
mavidian 


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23  
  
Nature granted Hogwarts an unexpected boon that first day of Christmas break. The blizzard swept in from the highlands battering the castle and grounds with its harsh winds, pelting hail and swirling snow. It had come early and decided to stay for several days. After a day of relative boredom, those students who had stayed behind were more than eager to escape the castle's confines. Professor Trelawney and Madam Pince escorted a large group to an extended outing in Edinburgh. Unfettered by the presence of students, the professors turned to their work with clear minds and determined purpose. There was a great deal of work to be done but fortune was smiling upon them. As with all things meteorological, the blizzard played havoc with magical things. The very atmosphere was charged with natural forces that made measurements, magical or muggle, unpredictable. The staff knew that the Ministry would discount any anomalies emanating from Hogwarts as weather related phenomenon as long as the blizzard continued unabated.  
  
Professor Filius Flitwick stood on top of his desk looking out the vast windows of his classroom. He could just make out Professor Sinistra, wind whipping her robes and snow shrouding her form, making her contributions to the grounds' landscaping. Energy crackled around her as she moved earth and rock here and there placing new plants and trees appropriately. She and Filch had earlier surveyed the grounds and divided it into quadrants. Each quadrant served a specific defensive purpose - harassment, containment, entrapment, pacification or elimination. Filch had charge of those quadrants for harassment and containment while Sinistra took care of the rest. They had presented their plans and ideas to the group at large last night. Flitwick hadn't quite believed Professor Sprout's assertion that Sinistra had developed quite an affinity for plants. But after witnessing Sinistra's presentation, he was a believer. Anyone coming to Hogwarts for less than honorable reasons would be in for a rude awakening.  
  
He approved of the passive but effective strategy that Siege and Defense was employing. Actually, he approved of anything that conserved his own finite resources. Parchment littered his desk. In the middle of his classroom, he had several three-dimensional topological maps of Hogwarts, the Dark Forest and Hogsmeade. He had asked Albus for six months to prepare. That had been wishful thinking and well he knew it. He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named was not going to be generous. No, he had to be ready before the start of summer - a scant four months away. He turned away from the windows, levitated himself off his desk and went to study for the umpteenth time his own plans and strategies. The diminutive professor walked around and around his maps seeing the whole in his mind's eye much like a chessboard with his forces deployed in various places. The last war had proven that winning did not rely on overwhelming force or large battles but in the mundane details of war - logistics, supply lines, troop location and tactical movement. After some time, he heard the sound of footsteps coming his way and looked to the door expectantly.  
  
"Wars are won in the moments of quiet introspection," intoned Albus Dumbledore walking into the room.  
  
"They are just as easily lost in moments of inattentiveness," replied Flitwick. With a quick flick of his hand, a Circle of Anomi formed around them.  
  
"True, so we shall have to eliminate as many such moments as we can," said the headmaster. He sat in a student desk peering at his friend closely. "You have been more, shall I say, edgy, since the incident with the Tree of Blessing, Filius. You and Cera normally do not snipe at each other so. Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"I have been trying to come to a decision on something."  
  
"What decision is that?"  
  
"You have made me your war master, Albus. As such, I must think of the ultimate checkmate." Flitwick paused in his circle around his maps. He stood facing Dumbledore with the map of Hogwarts between them. Flitwick's earnestness and candor was plain upon his face. "If you are incapacitated, you have made arrangements for others to take your place. If we are forced into a siege, we will be prepared. If we need to evacuate Hogwarts, we have plans to do so. But, if we are truly overwhelmed and there is no hope of defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, what do we do? You have given that decision to me and I have made plans for that eventuality."  
  
"Then what part of that decision troubles you now?" Albus asked.  
  
"My mind convinces me of the necessity of such an action but my heart pleads for another way."  
  
"There is no other way, Filius. We must take all possible paths and turn them into victory be it immediate or delayed. You know we must. If Riddle ever took possession of Hogwarts it will be impossible to regain it or to fully defeat him." Dumbledore urged.  
  
"Obliterating Hogwarts completely is unfathomable. I cannot in conscience do such a -"  
  
"It is a last resort only. Things may be resolved far neater and less costly than I believe, but if things do not, then Hogwarts must be destroyed utterly." Dumbledore added.  
  
"I suspect that Cera and Severus know what I am charged with this but neither of them has questioned me about it." Flitwick said.  
  
"I alluded to it in my meetings with them." Dumbledore admitted. "As Heads of Houses they had to know."  
  
"I'm an old man, Albus. I don't expect to live out this war. I still do not understand why I am the one to be given this decision? Minerva is the Deputy Headmistress after all. The decision is rightly hers."  
  
"Let us be honest then, Filius. I regret having to put this charge solely on you but I cannot trust anyone else to do it at the right time for the right reasons. The decision must be uncolored by emotion or motive. If things go horribly wrong, our side will need another chance if only to let the truth be known. But for that to be possible the playing field must be leveled. Deny Riddle the power of Hogwarts and he can still be defeated." Dumbledore explained. "I have charged Cera with establishing a safe retreat far away from Hogwarts known only to you and she. If we fail completely, destroy Hogwarts then take yourself and whomever can come and retreat there."  
  
"To live and fight another day?"  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore answered simply. "If I am unable to do so, I have entrusted Minerva, Severus and Flavius to do what needs to be done to cover your retreat, if necessary."  
  
"You're asking me to leave them behind!" Flitwick exclaimed. "That is -"  
  
"In the end, do you expect Severus to play it safe? Or Minerva to step away from the fray? Or Flavius to surrender?"  
  
"No, they don't have the temperament. If things go badly, you are correct, retreat will not be an option for them. Minerva will be relentless. Flavius will stand by her no matter what. While Severus has his own reasons to motivate him, I can see that he would be a poor choice."  
  
"They must stand and buy you enough time. It was not easy to ask them to take on those roles but I asked and they have accepted."  
  
"I see. You want their deaths and yours to give the illusion of defeat. In the meantime, Cera and I skulk away to regroup elsewhere." Flitwick said the words with distaste. "And the boy if he is still alive?"  
  
"Stun him, tie him up, I don't care, but get him away." Dumbledore urged with a note of desperation evident in his tone. "Take as many of the children as you can."  
  
"You are assuming that I will not fall in the first melee. I have every intention of being in the field, Albus. I refuse to hide in the castle." Flitwick moved around the map. He stood before his old friend with hands on hips and a meaningful glint in his eyes.  
  
"That goes without saying, Filius. I would not rob you of that honor." Dumbledore rubbed his beard thoughtfully before continuing. "This is where Bill Weasley comes in. I have decided that he will be your partner. Your experience will be combined with his energy and courage. I believe you will each learn a great deal from the other."  
  
"I take it you will charge him with keeping me alive?"  
  
"Of course," said Dumbledore smoothly. "Next to me you have the most experience and wisdom among all at Hogwarts. If Riddle succeeds, your knowledge and guidance will be needed more than ever."  
  
"Tell me straight, friend to friend, have you lost confidence that we will win this outright?"  
  
"Yes and no." Dumbledore clasped his hands together. He looked at them for a long time. When he looked at his old friend, his eyes were troubled. "For all my skill and knowledge, I don't know what will happen. There are so many variables constantly in flux. This will be a war of attrition won by the side that survives the longest. With that in mind, I can only try to prepare for every possibility. I hope and pray that such drastic action will not be necessary."  
  
Flitwick covered Dumbledore's hands with his. "Then be certain of this, Albus, I will fulfill my assigned role in this whatever happens and I will do my very best."  
  
~ * ~  
  
In the Room of Counsel, Nicholas Flamel was putting Demos through a very thorough examination. Flamel poked and prodded Demos while an Auto Quill recorded the conversation and the readings. Next to the madly moving quill, Madam Pomfrey looked on with great interest. She was not the only onlooker. Severus Snape sat on the opposite end of the table finishing some correspondence. He had woken Demos and dressed him in some extra clothes of his - white shirt, gray pants and black shoes. To anyone who did not know his origins, Demos would appear simply as a young man in his early twenties healthy and vigorous with a passing resemblance to a younger Severus Snape save for the wavy hair and hazel eyes. The examination had been going on for a full hour and was nearing its end.  
  
"Demos, do you feel any tiredness at all?" asked Flamel.  
  
"Tiredness, sir?"  
  
"As if your limbs were heavy and you have no energy?"  
  
"Yes, while I was talking to the Tree of Blessings before breakfast. Then we had breakfast and I did not feel this tiredness any more."  
  
"You ate for three men at breakfast." Said Poppy.  
  
"The hot chocolate was delicious much better than tea or coffee," Demos commented. A small smile played on his lips as he remembered the taste and texture of this new pleasure. "And the eggs and bacon and the, what were they again, Severus?"  
  
"Kippers," Severus did not even look up.  
  
"I wonder if the tree is siphoning energy through you. Your apparent link with the tree is puzzling. Cera cannot account for it either. Demos, the next time you visit the tree, take note if you feel tired afterwards." Flamel waved his wand and conjured a quill and parchment. "In fact, I prefer that you write down whatever thoughts come to you while you are with the tree."  
  
"Write?" Demos knew what a quill and parchment were well enough. He had seen Severus and the other professors using them. But as to what they actually did with them that was a bit of a mystery.  
  
Severus murmured. "He knows how to read though."  
  
"On the surface, so human-like yet not quite," Poppy observed. "Severus, it would be my pleasure to teach Demos how to write."  
  
"How much knowledge have you truly absorbed from Severus?" Flamel observed.  
  
At this, Severus stopped his writing and stood up. He moved closer to the others. "From my testing I've found his knowledge to be selective. He has all my knowledge of potions yet knows nothing about the other magical disciplines like Charms or Transfiguration. He has read extensively though. Strangely enough, through his readings, he has acquired a good grounding on history and literature. But there remains much more for him to learn if he is to function in our world."  
  
"Teach me then." Demos looked at them. His hazel eyes shone with eagerness. "Let me help, Severus. I want to be more useful."  
  
Let us try an acid test first, shall we?" Flamel took out a small wand from his vest pocket. "Demos, you know what this is?"  
  
"A wand."  
  
"Yes and what does one do with a wand?"  
  
"Magic and spells."  
  
"Very good." Flamel handed the wand to Demos who gripped the wand firmly but lightly. "Now, I want you to point at that empty chair there. I am going to count to three. When I get to three, say 'accio chair.' Do you have that?"  
  
Demos straightened and pointed his wand at the chair. "Yes, Mr. Flamel. On three I say 'accio chair'." As soon as he said the words his wand tip lit up bright blue. Every chair of every description sliced through the air occasionally colliding with each other. Flamel, Poppy and Severus quickly ducked under the table watching with alarm and amusement as chairs scattered around the room at great speed. With a wide grin forming on his face, Demos watched as the chairs landed around him each jostling for position like toy soldiers waiting for orders.  
  
"Obviously, he does not lack for talent," said Flamel dryly as they emerged from under the table.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Professor Sinistra tramped through the main doors. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were nearly blue with cold. But her eyes were bright and her smile even brighter. As she walked in, she shook her robes and hair of loose snow. Professor Sprout saw her on her way down the main staircase.  
  
"Enjoying the weather?" Sprout called out.  
  
"Gods, yes! It's absolutely exhilarating." Sinistra waited until Sprout reached her. Together they walked on towards the Great Hall and lunch.  
  
"We got lucky with this storm very lucky." said Sprout.  
  
"I want to see how the plants do in the morning. I'm sure that the hibernation spell will hold through the blizzard." Said Sinistra.  
  
"Filch should be done later today. The both of you have done fantastically out there."  
  
"Very different than passively taking notes on star charts I tell you." Sinistra observed. "In some ways far more gratifying."  
  
"Yes, very hands on and tangible," Sprout said. "Have you considered switching to Herbology?"  
  
"I have and before I make a final decision I have some questions about that." Said the younger woman.  
  
"Let's discuss it at lunch then." They had reached the doors to the Great Hall. Since it was the holidays and there were no students about, the usual setting of the high table was dispensed with. Instead, a large round table sat in the middle of the hall. Some of their colleagues had already taken their places. Others were straggling in.  
  
Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall were in deep discussion. Seated between Pomfrey and Snape, Demos piled his plate high with everything he could see at the table. He asked the nurse about each item of food set before him. Highly amused, the nurse answered his many questions. Snape was not paying any attention to his new charge. He and Nicholas Flamel exchanged theories on the latest alchemical news. Next to Flamel, Alastor Moody and Hagrid debated the latest professional Quidditch standings. Exhausted and drawn, Filch drew up a chair and tucked in. Right behind him, Madam Hooch came in hobbling on crutches. Her latest experiments with a new war broom design were becoming perilous to body and mind. Despite Flitwick's concerns, she had doggedly kept on in her research. She knew she was close to the perfect design. It would just be a matter of time.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Later that afternoon, the headmaster and headmistress sought out the potions master. They found him in his office.  
  
"Severus, a word please," said Dumbledore holding the door open for McGonagall.  
  
"I can hardly stop you." Severus sighed and put his quill down. McGonagall activated a Circle of Anomi around them. Dumbledore waved his wand and a pitcher of pumpkin juice and some sandwiches appeared on Snape's desk.  
  
"I've just had Nicholas and Poppy's full report on Demos' examination. You must realize why we are here." Said Dumbledore pouring himself and Minerva some juice.  
  
"There are questions we must ask and only you have the answers," McGonagall provided.  
  
Snape picked up a sandwich. "Yes, there are decisions to make. Proceed."  
  
"Does Demos stay here? And if so, can we trust him?" Dumbledore asked. "You had control over him before that is not the case now."  
  
"He is my responsibility, Albus and mine alone. I acknowledge it as much. Therefore, I've decided that Demos must stay close by. Where I go, he goes." Snape poured himself some juice and took a long sip before continuing. "As to trusting him, I can only say that I sense no malice in him. He knows much and is involved in much especially with the Tree of Blessings. I would think that we have no choice but to trust him."  
  
"I do not like having no choices open to me, Severus. But you are correct he does know too much already." Dumbledore admitted. "The question is how much more involved should he get? How much do we need him?"  
  
"In many ways he is still a child. That was evident after talking with Poppy." McGonagall said. "Children make mistakes - a slip of the tongue, a misguided truth uttered out loud. We still are not sure of what his link to the Tree of Blessing is. Why did it decide to put him in that pod in the first place?"  
  
"I had him ask the Tree that very question this morning. It replied that it sensed that Demos needed help and healing. It simply provided what it could to aid him."  
  
"Well, what did he need help with? Was he in some danger?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Demos does not remember exact details. He remembers feeling very tired and in bodily pain, his head mostly. He laid down on my bed and fell into a deep sleep." Snape steepled his fingers and looked at his visitors. "The next thing he remembers is waking up inside the pod."  
  
"Nicholas reports that there are elements within Demos that still bespoke of his demon heritage - the inhuman ways that he handles and reacts to magical energy, his immunity to certain spells, his ability to phase at will." Dumbledore rubbed his chin. "I have dealt too long with demons, Severus. Never has any one of my dealings with any of them been to my advantage."  
  
"He is neither a true demon or a true human but his human qualities are at the forefront. His responses are genuine. That I'm sure of." Snape said.  
  
"But he responded to Voldemort that one time. He was drawn to him and you admitted to some difficulty controlling him." McGonagall pointed out.  
  
"Yes, that is true. But I believe that he was acting on instinct not rational thought, Minerva." Said Snape. "Were he to undergo the event again now, his reaction would be different."  
  
"Is that a fact or a supposition?" Minerva pressed.  
  
"A strong supposition." Snape stood up and began to pace. "He is as you say still a child in many ways. He is also an entity that is evolving and learning. We can instruct him in morals and reason. He has already made the conceptual leap in thought between what is good and what is evil."  
  
"That does not change the fact that we know very little of what he truly is." Said Dumbledore. "I'm thinking of the school's welfare, Severus. Does Demos belong here?"  
  
Snape stopped his pacing and whirled to face the headmaster. "You're hiding behind the school, Albus, and letting your prejudices about demons color your viewpoint. Don't deny it. Neither of you has had any problems dealing with the unexpected or the dangerous. Look at all you did to allow Lupin to study here."  
  
"That is hardly a fair comparison, Severus." Minerva exclaimed.  
  
"Is it not?! A werewolf is a proven menace - uncontrollable and wild. Yet one was harbored here unbeknownst to the students or their parents. You risked attacks on any and all students here. Who was putting the school in danger then?"  
  
"Remus was in a contained environment during his transformations, Severus." Dumbledore looked at the young man coolly.  
  
"That is not what Black intimated!" Severus had lost his patience at last. "You said that Black told you that they released Lupin from the shrieking shack and . and cavorted through the grounds in their animagi forms - Potter, Black and Pettigrew. How can that flagrant disregard for others be tolerated and not Demos' presence? Demos has never harmed anyone or anything! Are you so afraid of him that you cower behind a shield of thoughtless intolerance?"  
  
Dumbledore stood up suddenly with his eyes blazing. McGonagall grabbed at and took hold of Albus' sleeve. The two men faced off. A long unbroken silence stretched between them. The conversation had trodden through territory that was better left alone. Snape turned away first and placed his hands on the mantel. He looked into the fires to calm himself down. McGonagall shook her head at Albus and motioned for him to sit down once more.  
  
"It is natural to fear what we do not understand." Said McGonagall. "You will find, Severus, that age does grant you the wisdom to recognize your mistakes as well as motivate you to not repeat them."  
  
Dumbledore let out a slow hissing breath. "Explain. Why is Demos so important to you?"  
  
Severus turned around and his expression was grave. "He is my responsibility, Albus. I created him for want of a better word. I am father, brother and mentor. I am all he has. I destroyed his previous existence and now I owe him another chance. I mean to give him that chance whether here or elsewhere."  
  
"You would leave Hogwarts?" McGonagall did not bother to hide her surprise. She glanced at Dumbledore then looked back at Severus.  
  
"Yes, I would." Snape admitted and went on with bitterness lacing his every word. "What is keeping me here, Minerva? The Library is no longer on the premises. My teaching career is lauded with venom not praise. I want nothing more but to forget my days as a Death Eater and cannot. While I am here, my life is not my own. Save for my allegiances to you, the penances I must pay and the duties to my House, what is there for me?"  
  
Another period of silence greeted his words. The tension that had hung in the room seemed to dissipate taking the long ago memories with them. It was replaced with a melancholy that was both moving and disturbing. Severus sat back in his share exhausted. He held his hands to his forehead and stared forlornly at the top of his desk. Softly like a confession, the words came hoarse and unwilling from his lips. "It grows more difficult every day. I cannot slip. I can never relax. I must hide yet be always visible. I can't remember what I was like anymore, Albus. What shred of myself will be left after all this? Don't you understand, Demos can be the gift I leave behind? I want to try. Let me try."  
  
"Forgive an old thoughtless man for forgetting." Dumbledore stood up and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "So be it where you go, so will Demos."  
  
~ * ~  
  
The holidays were always a good time for merchants in Diagon Alley. But this year there was something new that had the shoppers buzzing with speculation. In the window display of Ollivanders was perched a black wand staff with glittering silvery runes marking its smooth, polished surface. One end was tipped in gold and the other in pure silver. A small note by the staff indicated that the wand belonged to none other than Mr. Ollivander himself. As magnificent as the staff was, it was not that which caused all the speculation. No, that was caused by an article and advertisement that had appeared in the Daily Prophet that morning. It seemed that Mr. Ollivander was soon to retire. To mark the occasion he was seeking commissions from anyone who wanted a custom Ollivander wand staff.  
  
"They say that Albus Dumbledore has one," said a shopper gazing avidly at the display window. "That he used it against Grindelwald."  
  
"You'd have to be fair powerful to use something like that. She is a right beauty she is." Said another shopper an older man with a small boy holding his hand. "Look at it, Neil. You may never see its like again."  
  
Neil, the youngster, perhaps only seven or eight years of age, tugged at his grandfather's hand. "It looks just like a wand only prettier and bigger."  
  
"Aye, it does. But, Neil, you don't ken how rare it is." The older man picked up his grandson allowing him a better look at the display. "You have to be a wand maker, a really great wand maker at that, to make one. There aren't too many Ollivanders around."  
  
"Can you do more with it?" asked the boy innocently. "Like fly without a broom?"  
  
The grandfather chuckled indulgently. But the other gentleman answered the boy's question first. "You can fight whole armies with that staff single- handed. They say that it can even protect you against many hexes and curses."  
  
"But we don't have wars anymore." Neil looked at the gentleman in the long gray overcoat, muffler and wide brimmed hat. "Why would anyone need one?"  
  
"True, one doesn't need one. But it would be very nice to have one." The gentleman's eyes never left the display. "Just in case."  
  
"Excuse my grandson's forwardness, will you, Mr. -?"  
  
"Radcliffe." The two gentlemen shook hands with each other then Mr. Radcliffe shook young Neil's hand. "You are very wise, young Neil. You should always question what you do not believe is right." The youth beamed at receiving such a compliment from an adult.  
  
"Come on inside with me, Neil. Let's have a closer look." The old man opened the door of Ollivanders. "Mr. Radcliffe, coming in?"  
  
"Ah, no, thank you. I need to be on my way much more shopping to do." Mr. Radcliffe turned and walked away. Voldemort knew what he wanted for Christmas. It would be too risky for him to speak with Mr. Ollivander himself but he knew just the man to act as go-between.  
  
~ * ~  
  
A/N: Yes, I've read OotP. No, I don't plan to change my plotlines accordingly. I certainly can't write in any of the OotP stuff into this story's fabric. There are some similar themes but that's it. This story will continue. I've already finished the detailed outline to the end and I don't want that to go to waste.  
  
Enjoy and as always thank you to reviewers and readers alike. Comments and critiques always welcome.  
  
mavidian 


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
  
The shivering was a new experience. So were the chills, chattering teeth and dull aches. Demos felt like he was back in the pod again but he wasn't. He was lying in the infirmary under a mountain of blankets. Each blanket was charmed with several warming spells. A veritable bonfire roared in the fireplace. Never again would he venture out into the cold without a heavy cloak. He had spent most of yesterday outside helping Mr. Filch but also finding time to play and explore. In hindsight, it was too much time. That night he had acquired an unusual fever. His skin was scalding to the touch while he exhibited the same general fever symptoms as humans do. The first ever case of demon fever at Hogwarts had everyone stumped.  
  
There was nothing more to do than to let the fever run its course. But one thing hadn't been affected by the fever. Demos' appetite was if anything extremely healthy. Though he skin shimmered with perspiration and his long dark hair was plastered to his back, still he persevered through enormous breakfast and lunches. He was observed from the other room.  
  
"I suppose we have nothing to fear while his appetite stays the same," commented Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"Calliandra and Serjanus are the experts. When did they say they would be arriving?" asked Nicholas Flamel sipping his tea.  
  
"Sometime after dinner," Madam Pomfrey. "This is the first time they're meeting Demos in person. Severus is quite nervous."  
  
"So that's why he was so subdued at breakfast. Well, all children regress to childhood when their parents are about." Flamel observed. "I still remember my parents visiting me. I broke more vials and crucibles when they were around."  
  
Professor Snape came into the room dressed far from his usual fashion. "Has there been any improvement with Demos?"  
  
"I say, Severus, that is an improvement indeed. Muggle fashion certainly suits you." Pomfrey surveyed him from head to foot - shiny dark shoes, gray wool dress pants and dark blue patterned sweater over an unbuttoned white shirt. A light brown trench coat and checked blue and brown scarf completed the ensemble. His hair was slicked back away from his face. While he was not suddenly handsome, the overall look was certainly flattering. "You should wear more color more often. It makes your skin looks less, well, pale."  
  
"Thank you for the critique, Poppy. Even my socks match if you must know." Snape replied drily.  
  
"I cannot imagine that you have dressed so for your parents' visit." said Flamel.  
  
"Hardly. Madam Longbottom and I will be meeting with Ms. Granger's parents within the next two hours. I thought dressing in a manner more familiar to them would set them more at ease." Snape answered.  
  
"It won't hurt," Poppy said. "You know you do look younger and less intimidating this way."  
  
"That was not the effect I was after, Poppy. Perhaps I'll go change into - "  
  
"No, Severus, don't change. You look very impressive."  
  
"I am not out to im- impress anyone." Snape stammered awkwardly. "I need to fit- fit in. Not be so strange to them. They are muggles I can only guess at what their impression of us witches and wizards can be."  
  
"You will fit in like a hand to a glove." Pomfrey reassured him.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Seated in their living room, David and Philippa Granger had long ago lost their awestruck reaction to anything magical. Their guests were profoundly glad of that. Professor Snape and Madam Longbottom had spent the last two hours explaining the Tradition to Hermione's parents. After the initial shock, her parents had settled down and begun to ask real questions.  
  
"We support Hermione in all the things she does. She has told us that this is something she wanted." said Mr. Granger. He glanced at his wife and she nodded back. "Based on what you've told us about the Tradition we can find no real objections."  
  
"I must admit that this eases my mind considerably, Professor Snape. The headmaster has notified us about the threat of -." Mrs. Granger squeezed her husband's hand. "As her parents we want to protect her but we realized long ago that we could not - not in your world. I knew that we would have to let her go once she began university but that all changed when she was accepted at Hogwarts."  
  
Mr. Granger kept one arm around Hermione who was seated on his left on the sofa. "You've caused us to rethink things earlier than we had planned. The letting go was not easy, still not easy."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, certainly not changing," Hermione said with her eyes just a little misty.  
  
"You'll always be our little girl, witch or no witch." said her father. Mr. Granger gave his daughter a quick hug. "But the professor is right. You have so much potential. We want you to reach that potential."  
  
"Madam Longbottom has said that training will be arduous and extensive." added her mother. "If you say that this is something you truly want to do, then you will have all our support, love."  
  
"It is. I at least want to try." Hermione answered in firm voice full of conviction.  
  
"Well, then fly high my sweet and fly long." Mr. Granger said.  
  
"I'll make you so proud of me." Hermione hugged her mother tightly.  
  
"We already are, heart of mine. We already are." whispered Mrs. Granger.  
  
Witnesses to this touching scene, Madam Longbottom looked at the professor. She said for his ears alone. "You chose well, Keeper."  
  
"She has so many options. She will have to be guided carefully lest in her zeal she stumble on the wrong path." Snape murmured back.  
  
"We will do right by her, Severus, we can do no less." Madam Longbottom said.  
  
"Professor, I assumed that you would be teaching me. Is that correct?" Hermione asked now facing her professor. She had gotten over the shock of seeing his changed appearance. At least to her eyes, it was new. She had been casting covert glances in her mentor's direction all the while he and Madam Longbottom talked to her parents. He should stop wearing those buttoned tunics. It had never seemed to her that anyone could breathe properly in those high-necked tunics. The loose clothing he had on now was much more suitable she thought.  
  
"Yes for the most part. However there are specific subjects and specialized training that I am ill equipped to instruct. Those areas will be covered by Madam Longbottom and my mother." Snape answered. He was finally beginning to relax. The Grangers had surprised him. He chided himself at that thought. They had raised a fair-minded daughter. What else could he have expected of her parents but to be the same? They had listened intently and asked questions. And, they, he was glad to see, treated Hermione as a responsible person asking her questions and really listening to her.  
  
"Your mother, professor?" asked Mrs. Granger with some surprise.  
  
"She's wonderful, mother. I believe you both would get along famously." said Hermione.  
  
"We would very much like to meet all of Hermione's teachers." said Mr. Granger.  
  
"I'll see what I can arrange about that but her schedule is -" Snape began to feel slightly discomfited by the thought of his mother becoming friendly with Mrs. Granger.  
  
"Calliandra and I would love to visit again with you sometime over the next week perhaps. We can discuss Hermione's training in more depth." Madam Longbottom supplied. Snape shot her a look of inquiry which she chose to ignore. She rose from her chair. "But right now I'm afraid that we must be leaving,"  
  
"So soon? Please stay for dinner." Mrs. Granger invited.  
  
"I wish we could but we do have other matters to attend to. Thank you for seeing us." Professor Snape explained. "Ms. Granger, we would prefer to apparate outside behind your house."  
  
"Of course, professor." Hermione led them through the length of her home. They passed by a small television in the dining room. It was tuned to the news. The announcer was just relaying the latest news on the spate of disappearances in Notting Hill.  
  
"Officer Kenneth Tuckbridge has been missing for the last two days. He was not on an undercover assignment and his disappearance has the Yard baffled." The announcer shuffled his papers and continued on. "Authorities are shy of linking this confirmed disappearance to the recent disappearances of prostitutes, drug dealers and street vagrants within the same general area. For the latest, let's go to our Yard correspondent -"  
  
Neither Hermione nor Snape paid any attention to the broadcast. They reached the back garden. It was a walled garden and so ideal for no one could see them coming or going.  
  
"Here, Hermione, I want you to have this." Madam Longbottom held out a gold necklace with a small charm hanging on it. "The charm will transport you to my home."  
  
Hermione fingered the chain and looked at the charm in her hand. "A portkey?"  
  
"No, not a portkey." Madam Longbottom smiled at her. "This is a wishbringer."  
  
"I've never heard of anything like that."  
  
"I'm not surprised. When portkeys became so popular and useful, wishbringers grew out of favor. A wishbringer can be associated with a place, a person or a thing. In the old days, these were used to transport oneself to faraway places. They were guarded zealously and often never left the body of the owner. It is said that one wizard decapitated an assistant who had been entrusted with his wishbringer then promptly mislaid it. There is even a case where the wishbringer object was a living thing. A wishbringer is a bit old fashioned but effective in its own way."  
  
Hermione looked at the charm. It was heavy, made of copper and its surface sported the tarnish of old age. "This looks like an old roman coin or at least half of one."  
  
"It is a genuine roman coin which has been split apart into two separate items. You take one half with you wherever you go and the other half stays in the place you wish to return to or within the possession of another person or affixed to the thing that you wish to have."  
  
"How would I use it? Do I say a spell or something?"  
  
" First, do not be afraid to hold the charm, Hermione. It will not instantly transport you like a portkey will. To invoke it you simply hold the charm and think with truth and sincerity "I wish to be at the Longbottoms." You and only you will be transported to my home. One has to be sincere in his desires in order to use it. That is one reason why wishbringers fell out of favor. It isn't just a quick ticket to somewhere else unlike apparating or the floo network."  
  
"But doesn't this go against the ban on underage magic?"  
  
"Ah, no. Wishbringer travel is not detectable by the Ministry. A wisher is never stationary like a fireplace nor does one use a specific spell as one does to apparate." Madam Longbottom explained. " I doubt if anyone at the Ministry in these times even knows what a wishbringer is."  
  
"How convenient," Hermione clasped the necklace around her neck then looked down at the charm. "Thank you."  
  
"We want you to feel that you can always come to us if you ever need help or just need somewhere to get away." Madam Longbottom looked at her long and hard. "Hermione, you have shown many kindnesses to Neville. It is time the kindness was returned. I speak for myself as well as Neville."  
  
Professor Snape had remained silent throughout the exchange. Now he fished around his pockets. He held out his hand to Hermione. In his palm were two more coin halves one silver and one gold. "The gold is a wishbringer to your desk in the Eyrie. I've given the same to Neville. This way the two of you can come and go without detection. The silver is from my mother and it is associated with the parlor room at Castell de Remeis."  
  
"But teleportation within Hogwarts isn't allowed."  
  
"Wishbringers use different magical principles than apparating or teleportation." Snape pointed out. "The house heads have numerous wishbringers stationed around the castle. How else do you think we are able to be seemingly everywhere in a very short amount of time? Would you like to have one for your home here? This way you can visit as often as you like."  
  
"Yes, very much, professor." Hermione unclasped her necklace and immediately attached her new charms to it.  
  
"Very well. I will show you and Neville how to make one when you both return to Hogwarts."  
  
"Take care, Hermione, and remember you and your parents are not alone anymore. This home is now on the Tradition watch list. I've put a charm on the house and on your parents. If they come to harm, the Tradition will come to their aid." Madam Longbottom said just before she and Professor Snape apparated away.  
  
~ * ~  
  
The storm had ended leaving the grounds blanketed with snow. The lake's frozen surface dully reflected the noonday sun's rays. Three cloaked figures could be seen walking along the lake. The tallest figure walked in between the other two.  
  
"Your grades are holding steady, Hamish. Are you having any particular difficulties in school this term?" Magnus asked.  
  
"Mostly mathematics and numerology. I think I understand it then I do badly on examinations." said Hamish. "Mistress Rowena is a good teacher, sir. I just get all muddled."  
  
"Later show me some of the theorems that you have been working on. Perhaps I can show you a different way to think about it that is more clear to you." said Magnus. "Jarvic, you have been unusually quiet. Last term you regaled me with stories about your adventures."  
  
" I have been doing more studying than adventuring this term, sir."  
  
"I had noticed your marks in charms and runes had improved greatly. Are you having any difficulties in your other courses?  
  
"Alchemy, sir."  
  
"The practical or the theory?"  
  
"Mostly the theory."  
  
"We get by on the practicals, sir. At least our cauldrons no longer explode every other week." Hamish commented wryly.  
  
"I am gratified to hear that." Magnus grinned at his charges. "Your monthly allowances were seriously being depleted with new cauldron purchases every month."  
  
"Sir, about our allowances -" Hamish started.  
  
"We're very grateful that you sponsored our schooling, sir." Jarvic continued.  
  
"We don't know how we can ever repay you for all you've done for us." said Hamish.  
  
"Repay me by getting good grades, Hamish. I may have paid for your schooling but your success here is entirely due to your own efforts."  
  
"We've been thinking about what we're going to do after we graduate." Jarvic said.  
  
"You see, sir, we want to make our own way. But we are at a loss as to how to do so." Hamish explained.  
  
"I do not see myself prospering as a potter or craftsman."  
  
"We have thought about becoming merchants of some kind. The kind that travel about trading their wares."  
  
"Have you considered the options open to you in the magical world?"  
  
"Sir, please do not take offense in what I am about to say. And know that we, Hamish and I, do truly appreciate and am grateful for all you have done on our behalf." Jarvic said. "We were not born into this world of magic and we still do not feel that our place is here."  
  
"We strongly doubt that we could secure places as apprentices with any master given our heritage." Hamish continued.  
  
"Has anyone said this to you? Barred you from contemplating apprenticeships?" said Magnus. He knew very well from what quarter such comments came from.  
  
"Not directly but it is plain nonetheless." Hamish admitted. "That is why we are trying to plan for our future now and -"  
  
"Listen to me both of you." He faced the two young men. He put a hand on each of their shoulders. "I may have allowed you entry into our world but you have earned your place. Any who say otherwise has not endured all that you both have endured. Any who say otherwise is short of sight, narrow of mind and abysmally foolish."  
  
"Thank you for that, sir, but -" said Jarvic.  
  
"You are entitled to your apprenticeships perhaps more than any other. Neither of you is lacking in power or skill. But you do need refinement and more training which you can only get while apprenticing to a master."  
  
"But no one will have us." Hamish lamented.  
  
"You let me worry about that, young Hamish. You keep your mind on your studies." said Magnus.  
  
"We do not want to be given anything, sir, especially from you." said Jarvic.  
  
"You will not receive anything from me freely. You will earn your apprenticeships. Trust me on that." Magnus clasped his hands behind his back. "Off you go. You don't want to be late for Mistress Rowena's class."  
  
The two boys scampered off lighter of heart and mind than when first their walk had begun. Magnus stood silently watching their receding figures. He had always known that Salazar saw those with non-magical births as inferiors and was not about to change his mind at this late date. He genuinely liked the man but his temper always flared when talk came around to the non-magical. There was no reasoning with Salazar on this topic. Dealing with Salazar was always a tiring business. New ideas take time to take root. Future generations should fare better he thought.  
  
Suddenly a snowball hit him square on the stomach. His eyes snapped open and he was immediately on alert. He did not see anyone about. Another snowball hit his back and he whirled to face his attacker. There was no one to confront. But he heard a sound - the crunching sound one's footsteps make over the snow. It was coming from his left.  
  
"Whoever you are you had better show yourself. I am not in the mood to be amused." Magnus waved his left hand in the direction of the sound. At his command, a gust of air blew the snow about like a small cyclone. The snow revealed the outline of his attacker. He strode to confront him.  
  
"Stop! Stop this now, Magnus!" said the figure in a decidedly feminine voice. "You're going to give me a chill."  
  
"Asara, I would have thought you were beyond such childish games." Magnus motioned again and the cycle abated. Asara Slytherin slowly appeared before him brushing snow off her hooded cloak and pulling her cloak tighter about her.  
  
She looked up at him. The light of mischief was still bright in her sea- green eyes. "Games are never childish. You looked so serious. Forgive me, I thought only to lift you from your gloomy idylls."  
  
"In that you have succeeded, milady," Magnus responded. He looked around again but they were alone. "Where is your escort? You should not be traveling alone."  
  
"Pieros and Mikhail are already at the castle. We saw you here and I told them to go ahead without me." she explained. "I am quite sure that you would see me there."  
  
Magnus proffered her his arm. He saw that she was definitely not the young child she had been the last time he had seen her. She came up to his shoulder now. He could not see the rest of her covered as she was with her heavy cloak. "So, tell me what mischief have you partaken of late?"  
  
"Mischief is as mischief does, Magnus." she said. "I have been assisting Pieros in his work rooms for the last year doing accounts and ledgers."  
  
Magnus laughed softly. "Yes, inventive as Pieros is, he is hopeless at figures and accounting."  
  
"The man orders only the best quills, parchments and leather with no thought on making a profit. We stint on the luxuries in order to make better goods. I have heard that you are prospering, too. Not so well known as Pieros perhaps but just as successful."  
  
"I do not need to be famous to be content, Asara."  
  
Asara thought for a moment before she replied making sure her voice did not betray her. "Are you content then?"  
  
"As much as any man would be at this stage of his life. And you?"  
  
She heard the wistful tone in his response and decided to forge ahead. The castle was getting closer and she wanted an answer before they got there. "Being content is not the same as being happy. I am content but I would prefer to be happy."  
  
"What would make you happy then?"  
  
She stopped and she faced him. "Not once have I hidden my admiration and respect for you. I need to know now if I could expect the same from you. It would make me happy, if you could see me as more than just your teacher's daughter. Can you see me as your wife, Magnus, as clearly as I can see you as my husband?"  
  
She had not expected a quick answer but his long silence was unnerving. Her forwardness was one of her failings she knew. After a minute, she took his continued silence as his answer. She turned away and began to walk again towards the castle. She had taken only a few steps when she felt his hand on her arm stopping her. She could not look at him and kept her eyes down. She saw the tips of his boots peering out from under his cloak.  
  
Magnus lifted her chin up with his finger. He pulled off her hood to see her clear. "I can clearly see you as a wife, Asara, but not necessarily mine. One of your social status deserves to marry someone more prosperous with strong family credentials. I am a self-made man. My parents were simple herbalists and healers in the fens of Wales. My schooling here was on scholarship. I have just moved into a modest house outside London. Don't you see I cannot give you anything beyond what I have. I do not have the bright future that Pieros has or the business sense of Mikhail."  
  
"I am not interested in Pieros or Mikhail," she replied. "I have never been -"  
  
"Then you should be." His words came out harsher than he had intended. Looking at her now he was struck by the stormy emotions reflected in her eyes. Her tempestuous passionate nature called out to him inciting his placid stoic self to action.  
  
"You said that you can indeed see me as a wife. Can you see yourself as my husband?" She placed both hands on his chest. Her eyes studied his face - aged by hard study but his dark good looks were still there.  
  
"N-n-no I do not." Magnus stammered.  
  
"You lie badly and you have always stammered when unsure." Asara caressed his cheek. "I wish to stand with you and only you. I wish to my future to be yours. I wish to hear you call me wife. I wish my children to call you father."  
  
"Do not be so hasty I beg of you. Think about your future," he pleaded.  
  
"I am. I am standing right in front of it."  
  
"Asara, please listen -."  
  
"I would if I was hearing anything that I wanted to hear."  
  
Magnus held her face with both hands. "Were we to build a life together, you cannot expect to have the same things that you have now or do the same things."  
  
"Were we together, I would happily want nothing else."  
  
"There will be no luxuries or hope of any or even -" Asara did not allow him to continue. She pulled his head down brushing his lips with her own. Their kiss was light almost innocent but not quite. Magnus ran a hand down her back and pulled her closer to him. He lost awareness of all things around him save for the woman in his arms. They broke apart with some reluctance. "Come visit my home. I want you to see. I want you to be sure first. If it is not to your liking then we will say nothing more of this."  
  
"I am sure, Magnus, but I will do as you say because you ask it of me." Asara traced his lips with her fingers. "Perhaps, I can return with you?"  
  
"That would be ideal. Now as for the chaperone -"  
  
"Magnus! We are long out of the nursery." Asara laughed.  
  
"All proprieties must be followed. I will not have you dishonored through any false or improper accusations." Magnus insisted.  
  
"Very well. I will see if Pieros is amenable. Will he suit?"  
  
"He will do well, milady." Magnus raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Now, we had better get to the castle. You must be tired from your journey."  
  
The two started walking to the castle a little closer and a little slower than before. Occasionally, they stopped to kiss or share a private thought with the other. By the time they reached the castle both radiated an inner joy that was obvious to all who saw them. Of their observers, none was more pleased than her father Salazar Slytherin.  
  
~ * ~  
  
A/N: The wishbringer is an original idea. It was only after I finished writing about it that I realized it was similar to Dorothy's shoes in the Wizard of Oz without the heel clicking. As for the roman coins, well, there's a reason for that too. The last 2 chapters are setting up so many things for the third half of the story arc. I hope I haven't lost any readers plot wise. As always thank you to readers and reviewers alike.  
  
Enjoy! mavidian 


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 Where the Truth Lies  
  
Syrupy caramel swerved and swirled recklessly on the creamy surface. Chopped macadamia nuts clung tenaciously to the slippery sides. Sprinkles of bitter chocolate dotted the top of the hill - a generous scoop of rich vanilla. At its feet pooled a layer of thick hot fudge. The mouth- watering confection was wholly unaware of a most malevolent gaze aimed upon it. Demos stared at it. He wanted to incinerate it on sight. He had been released from his sick bed and had thoroughly enjoyed an enormous breakfast. Until now that is.  
  
A house elf stood waiting to see if Demos liked this newest creation. The elf looked at him hopefully. But Demos was in a black mood and his expression was a mirror copy of Severus Snape when faced with something he truly loathed. In other words, he was feeling perfectly disagreeable and bad tempered. The house elf was not blind. It started to whimper. It looked appealingly at Calliandra Snape seated a few seats from Demos. Mrs. Snape heard the whimper. She looked at Demos and smiled at him encouragingly. Madam Pomfrey who was seated to his left patted him on the shoulder and moved the ice cream even closer to him. It was for naught for Demos was feeling quite mutinous and, yes, sulky.  
  
As he and the ice cream reached an impasse, he reflected on the events that led to all this. He had been introduced to Severus' parents last night. They, too, had been puzzled by his fever. He was poked, jabbed, swiped, rotated, upended and generally made miserable by all the rigorous procedures they put him through. The couple had then tried a variety of tests and spells that left his body numb. Then they started the treatments.  
  
"Now, the ice bath, Severus, is intended to maintain his external temperature below 32 degrees Celsius. His internal temperature though warmer must be well below normal body temperature." Serjanus explained to Severus as they watched Demos in the makeshift tub in the middle of the infirmary. Shards of ice floated on the surface. Steam from Demos' body and water vapor from the ice lent a cloudy atmosphere to the room.  
  
His wife came in grinning from ear to ear. "Serjanus, I've solved our the internal temperature issue. I've set the house elves on a small task. Each elf is to make a different bowl of ice cream. Each bowl is charmed to lower the ice cream's temperature an additional 20 degrees."  
  
"Ice cream, mother?" Severus looked at his mother.  
  
"Since Demos is going to need a lot of time to cool himself internally why not make it enjoyable? Minerva tells me that he loves ice cream."  
  
"What other details have you left out?" Serjanus asked knowing his wife well.  
  
"In return, I will personally grant them a wish a piece."  
  
"Mother, there are far more house elves now than when you lived here," Severus informed her.  
  
"Yes, there certainly is. I'm looking forward to playing St. Nicholas this year." his mother answered. "And before you ask I have Albus' permission as long as I keep things within limits, of course, and -."  
  
"And I have the limits in writing. Here you are, Calliandra." Dumbledore stood at the doorway smiling benevolently.  
  
Serjanus chuckled seeing the quickly hidden look of dismay on his wife's face. "Not leaving anything to chance are you, Albus."  
  
"Of course not. The stunts that Calliandra use to pull are firmly emblazoned on my mind." said Albus. "Vividly."  
  
"Stunts, mother?" Severus looked at his mother with great interest.  
  
"Albus exaggerates." Calliandra looked everywhere except at her only smirking son. She thought that similar smirk on Serjanus was adorable but on her flesh and blood it was just plain annoying.  
  
"But barely," Serjanus added. His wife gave him a disbelieving look. "When I was head boy, I took more points from Ravenclaw because of her alone."  
  
"And you never listened to my explanations just took the points off like that." Calliandra snapped her fingers. "I was fully justified in everything I did."  
  
"Calliandra, retribution for perceived wrongs done upon your person by other students is not a good enough reason for half of the pranks you pulled." Serjanus teased. "You were a prefect, remember? What kind of an example did you set?"  
  
"Precedence and justice," murmured his wife. "Your father was always so seriously proper and pureblood in those days."  
  
"Pranks?" Severus asked. The smirk now seemed permanent.  
  
Calliandra was resolute. "No one was ever hurt - very much."  
  
"I see." Severus made a mental note to ask the headmaster about his mother's student days when they were alone.  
  
While the family teased each other, Dumbledore went inside and now stood looking down at Demos. Demos looked remarkably comfortable if more than a little bored. Dumbledore fished in his robes. He dropped a few things into the tub. "It looks like you will be here awhile my boy."  
  
"Yes, sir, it does." Demos replied. He grabbed hold of the bright yellow ducky. He gave it a squeeze and bubbles erupted out of its mouth. He laughed at the toy tugboats and steamers that sailed about on their own tooting occasionally or bouncing off the ice shards. "Thank you, headmaster."  
  
"You're very welcome. When you are better we will talk, just you and I, shall we?"  
  
"Of course, sir."  
  
"Very good." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now, get well. We missed you at table."  
  
"I'm feeling much better with the bath, sir." Demos replied. He gave the duck another squeeze.  
  
The family stopped their banter and positioned themselves around the tub. Serjanus glided over and waved his wand towards Demos. Slowly, a three dimensional figure appeared in the air magic dot by magic dot. "His fever is symptomatic of the typical change that a human being undergoes - puberty. Teenagers all experience some joint pain as their bones grow, fatigue, spurts of energy caused by off kilter hormones and the like. Demos is experiencing all this but at an accelerated rate. His fever is simply his body's response to all the changes happening." Serjanus explained.  
  
"We found something else besides the fever, Albus. Look at Demos' internal structure," Calliandra pointed her wand at the image. "Several organs are undersized still - kidneys, liver, intestines and spleen are the most obvious. Contrast their development with the mature organs - heart, lungs, stomach and brain. Fortunately, his nervous system is complete with a few surprising additions on the neural strand that I have yet to fully understand. Nicholas has a few theories to explore though."  
  
"Demos is still evolving into his final state, Albus." Serjanus said. "We do not have a clear idea of what his final form will be. We do have some guesses but they are just guesses."  
  
"How long do you estimate before he has reached his last state?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"His body seems to be following normal human growth patterns but at five times the normal rate. I would estimate that he will reach maturity in three months." said Calliandra. "Now this is the physical evolution which to my mind is the easiest. However there other facets to consider - intellectual, emotional and social."  
  
"These facets we can discuss at another time," Serjanus looked at each of the adults meaningfully. "For now, we have to get the fever under control. Where's the ice cream, Calliandra?"  
  
"Ice cream?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Long story, Albus." said Severus.  
  
"I instructed the house elves to begin bringing ice cream starting in the next few minutes. Demos, you will have to ingest everything presented to you." Calliandra advised.  
  
Demos greeted this with a brilliant smile. He loved ice cream. "What flavor?"  
  
"All kinds - vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, mint, chocolate chip and lots more." Calliandra answered.  
  
"You understand why you need to eat all of it?" Serjanus asked very clearly and deliberately.  
  
"My internal temperature must be lowered and that it might take at least a full day of eating before my fever disappears completely." Demos answered earnestly.  
  
A discreet knock at the door and a house elf poked his head in. Calliandra went to speak with the elf. She saw a veritable queue of house elves lined up outside the infirmary with each holding a bowl of ice cream. She ushered the first elves in. Demos consumed the offerings eagerly. His internal temperature went down very slowly. Eventually, after about the one- hundredth bowl, his temperature was declared suitable and his fever subsided a bit. Thereafter the servings were reduced to one serving every thirty minutes. But the next morning, he hated the very sight of it in any form. At table, he looked beseechingly at Severus then down to the offending bowl of ice cream.  
  
Severus put his coffee down and sighed. His parents had last night agreed somewhat gleefully he thought that Severus should continue to serve as Demos' sole parental figure. They had even begun procedures to enable Severus to declare Demos as his ward and joining Demos to the family legally. Severus glanced at Demos. Demos had been objecting to the treatment more and more. Severus marshaled his usual argument. "Demos, if you don't eat that you won't get well. Don't you want to get well?"  
  
"I prefer the ice bath," Demos replied petulantly.  
  
Calliandra looked at her son. It was obvious that he had no clue that he would lose this battle unless some reinforcements arrived to help. She remarked out loud. "You know, Severus, this reminds me of the time when you wouldn't eat your vegetables, remember what your father did?"  
  
The house elf had followed the exchange eagerly but quietly. He looked at Demos directly. "Sir, if you do not eat, Mikol, me, do not get wish. Please, sir, Mikol wants his wish, little wish only."  
  
"What would your wish be, Mikol" Serjanus asked.  
  
"Sir, I wish for a house, a good house, for my cousin, sir."  
  
"No wish for yourself?" Calliandra asked. She could see Demos listening silently.  
  
"Mikol need not the wish. Mikol at Hogwarts." Mikol fairly glowed after saying this. "Mikol happy at Hogwarts."  
  
Silence descended on the round table. They all looked at Demos waiting for what he would do. Demos picked up the bowl stabbing and slicking his spoon into the ice cream none too gently. He took a deep breath and spooned some into his mouth. He quickly ate the rest barely breathing between swallows. Mikol bowed and beamed at him. He departed happily back to the kitchens.  
  
Then Demos pushed himself from the table and looked at Severus. "May I be excused?"  
  
Severus nodded. Demos nodded back. He then turned and stalked out of the Great Hall.  
  
"Growing pains," murmured Professor Sprout.  
  
"Lucky for you, Severus, his puberty period will only be a few days instead of years," Madame Pomfrey chuckled.  
  
"You are in for some interesting times, Severus." Nicholas Flamel commented.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Peter Pettigrew shuffled quickly out of the crowded shop on Portobello Road. With its colorful shops and varied merchants, the street reminded him strongly of Diagon Alley. He clutched his packages tightly. It would not do for him to lose it in the jostling crowds. He waited patiently for the muggle lorry to stop in front of him. He got on board. He had taken this route many times. He knew every stop and even the shortcuts the driver sometimes took. Every two weeks he knew to take this bus. So regular was he that the conductor automatically gave him the right ticket.  
  
"So, off for your a visit to your sister, Lowell?" asked the conductor.  
  
"Yes, just a short visit this time though. I forgot something at her place." Pettigrew replied. He walked down the aisle to an empty seat.  
  
"Well, if I don't see you again have a good visit." said the conductor cheerily.  
  
"It's always a good visit. Thank you." Peter Pettigrew settled himself into his seat. He straightened his hat and brown tweed overcoat. He noticed a smudge on his gray pants but dabbing at it with his finger only smeared the stain more. He breathed deeply. The familiarity of his routine trips helped him to relax.  
  
Anytime he ventured out the constant fear of discovery gnawed at his insides. Even with the disguise charm he employed in combination with his muggle dress, his fears lessened only a fraction. But on these bus trips, he enjoyed the solitude of anonymity. The likelihood of a witch or wizard using bus transport was laughable. Unfortunately, the solitude also lent itself to introspection leading him to think back on his life. He had been content being Scabbers. In time, he had even learned to respond to the name. It hadn't been such a bad existence he thought. He was kept warm, fed and sheltered and no one made demands of him. It had been an easy life. He had felt safe, too.  
  
Pettigrew sighed looking forlornly at the passing scenery. His life now was far from easy. Safety had a steep price that he paid every day without fail. I am what I am. I am where I am in my life and there is nothing I can do to change that. At least I have a home which is more than Sirius Black could say I suppose. I can go about society and live my life. Live my life as my lord demands he corrected himself. He couldn't just disappear into the muggle world though the very thought had tantalized him more than once. His very existence was forfeit to the Dark Lord. He had long ago decided that his only course was to stay by his lord's side. His lord would triumph in the end. Of that he was very sure. He hung onto that thread of hope tenaciously. The alternative did not bear thinking of.  
  
His mind then went to his assigned chores for the day. His hand lightly patted the packages sitting on his lap. His lord's request had puzzled him this morning - four bottles of sunless tanning lotion, 2 kits each for black and brown hair dye and assorted bits of makeup. He added his usual Saturday morning purchases of muggle medicines and groceries. As for his trip to see the Grangers, that was nothing new. He was ordered to observe and learn the family's patterns of behavior. This task he did diligently. He could only guess at his lord's purpose for his requests and his continued insistence on watching the Grangers.  
  
His trips were like clockwork. At exactly 8:15 he boarded the bus. Forty- five minutes later he got off at Gatcombe Place. Ten minutes later he would stand and observe the Granger house. At 10:15 he would board the bus again and return to Portobello then home to the agency.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Intuition can be a double-edged sword. It can shield you from potential harm or prepare the way for glad tidings. In the case of the matriarch of the Weasley family, her intuition was driving her to take action. She was ecstatic to have all her children, save for Charlie, under the same roof for Christmas. To spend a few days with her family about her was her idea of a day in paradise. Why then did she sense there was a serpent lurking in her familial Shangri La.? They were all healthy and together. Pranks, jibes and easy laughter were the rule rather than the exception. There was something. She could feel it but she just could not tell what it was. She shooed her dark thoughts away. Time enough to thing about things later she said to herself. "Children! Come down for breakfast!" she called out. "Come on now!"  
  
Fred and George came down first wide awake and whispering among themselves. That was never a good sign and Mrs. Weasley knew it. Ron and Harry came next eyes bleary from the late night discussing all things Quidditch. They seated themselves along the sides of the long table. Mr. Weasley and Percy were already halfway through their breakfasts.  
  
"Now, where's Bill and Ginny?" Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
"Bill! Ginny!" yelled Fred.  
  
"Oy, food's getting cold!" George added.  
  
Several thumping sounds came from upstairs. Mr. Weasley looked up curiously.  
  
"Just books, Dad," said Ron. "Ginny probably fell asleep on top of her books again."  
  
"None of that from any of you now," said Mrs. Weasley pouring herself tall glass of pumpkin juice. She spared a glance at her lovable if impossible twins. "She is improving so much at school and taking her studies seriously unlike some of you."  
  
"Your mother's right, boys. Don't tease Ginny any more about it." Mr. Weasley said.  
  
" Honestly, Dad, she's becoming another Hermione," said Ron.  
  
"What's that about Hermione?" Bill came down tying the belt of his robe tight.  
  
"Never mind, dear. Our Ginny could be a prefect or even head girl someday. Oh, wouldn't that be grand, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley glowed as she floated a plate of bacon to the table.  
  
"She might well be the first head girl in the family, Molly dear," her husband mused.  
  
"After that horrible mess with the chamber, she seemed so slow to recover and -"  
  
Mr. Weasley patted his wife's hand and held on to it. "Now, Molly, that's over with now. Ginny's fine. She's come around."  
  
"I'll say she's recovered. I dropped one of her books yesterday and she looked ready to hex me." George said.  
  
"She's studying potions like her life depended on it," said Fred. "It's almost like having a miniature Snape in the house, Mum."  
  
"That's Professor Snape to you Fred," said Bill quietly.  
  
"Yes, of course, PROFESSOR Weasley!" George replied in a singsong way.  
  
"Anything you say, oh wondrous professor." Fred followed in his twin's wake.  
  
"Sounds good to me. Start getting used to it," said Bill nonplussed buttering his toast. "If you show the teachers this much disrespect, I can see why they dock points."  
  
"Whose side are you on!?" Fred asked.  
  
"Yours, of course. But I also see the teachers point of view, too." Bill explained. "Learning is hard but I'm beginning to see teaching will be ten times as hard."  
  
"Albus Dumbledore picked you remember. Obviously he thinks you can do it and that's that," said Mrs. Weasley. She smiled at her eldest. Her firstborn would always have a special place in her heart and mind that was for him alone. "I'm so proud of you."  
  
"It will be hard at first, Bill. Every job is like that but you've always been a quick learner and you always do your best." Mr. Weasley pushed his chair out shaking breadcrumbs from his robes. " Molly, Percy and I had better get to work. Are you still planning on going to Diagon Alley later?"  
  
"Oh, yes, we couldn't go shopping yesterday. There are a few presents left to get still." Mrs. Weasley kissed her husband goodbye and nodded to Percy. "Have a good day at work, dear."  
  
"You don't realize what a great position Bill has got himself teaching at Hogwarts. He'll be getting a lot of respect for it and so will we." Percy warned. He stood up and prepared to leave. He inspected and smoothed his robes once more.  
  
The youngest Weasley picked that time to make her appearance. She hugged her father quickly, waved goodbye to her older brother then sat down opposite Bill. She looked a bit worn around the edges but nothing that a good start to the morning would not cure. She stifled a yawn and managed a weak "Morning, everyone."  
  
On his way around the corner, Percy called back to them. "If you spoil it for Bill then you spoil it for the family. Think on that for a change will you, Fred."  
  
"Obviously blood kin doesn't count for much anymore." muttered Fred. He watched as his mother left briefly to speak privately with her husband before he left.  
  
Harry had remained silent throughout the meal. He reflected back to his first wondrous visit to the burrow. Everyone was still the same. No, he corrected himself. The sense of family was still the same. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had certainly not changed. But the rest, well, the rest were growing up and changing. He could see that Ginny and Bill had changed the most. Harry thought back to the day they had met at the Three Broomsticks with Ms. Delacour. Bill still had the long hair and dragon's fang earring but there was a new seriousness to the set of his face and in his eyes. As for Ginny, he had of course noticed all the extra studying she seemed to be doing lately. He remembered watching Ginny, Hermione and Neville in the common room just before the holiday break talking about books and taking endless notes. The thought of Neville gave him pause. There's another one who's changed a lot he thought. Everyone around him seemed to be learning, growing and changing except for him. When he looked in the mirror this morning, he saw the same boy with the same face and the same untamable hair. Was he changing at all? You're the Boy-Who-Lived just living is enough for you. So, I'm going to be known as the Boy Who Lived and for nothing else my entire life? He didn't have a ready answer. All he felt was the empty feeling of being left behind. It was a feeling he did not much like. A slap on his back brought him out of his thoughts.  
  
"Hey, Harry, you ready to go?" asked Ron.  
  
"Yeah, sure." Harry answered.  
  
"You think we can persuade Mum to go to Quidditch Supplies first?"  
  
"Ah, I don't think that's possible." Harry grinned at his best friend.  
  
"I'll ask Mum. Who knows she may change her mind." Ron said with a grin.  
  
Mrs. Weasley bustled back into the room. She had caught the tail end of Ron's words. "Change my mind about what?"  
  
Bill cleared his throat loudly. "I was just saying that I can take them to Diagon Alley for you, mum."  
  
"How thoughtful, Bill! Yes, please do." said his mother.  
  
"Consider it done." Bill downed his pumpkin juice. "All right. Anyone who wants to come with me meet by the fireplace in a half hour."  
  
"While you're all gone I can finish a few things." added Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Like a few Weasley jumpers, Mum?" asked George playfully.  
  
"Cheeky boys, as if you two would get any this year. What with all the notes from Hogwarts!" Mrs. Weasley replied back saucily. She bustled about the kitchen clearing off the breakfast table while the rest stampeded for the stairs.  
  
~ * ~  
  
The sound of a small bell tingling shrilly echoed through the halls of the stately home situated outside London far away from the urban sprawl but barely on the edges of the country. It was not outwardly ostentatious. Its rough gray stone walls exuded strength and warmth. Puffs of smoke could be seen streaming upwards from several chimneys dotting its gabled roof. The bell tingling grew shriller still. A figure strode quickly into the parlor room and touched the bell lightly. The bell was silenced thus.  
  
Another figure came into the room panting and looking worried. "What is it, gran?" Neville asked.  
  
"The charm on the Granger house has been triggered." Madame Longbottom replied.  
  
"You think they're all right?"  
  
"Oh, yes. If they were in physical mortal danger it would have been the gong sounding not the bell here." Madame Longbottom waved her hand and the fireplace blazed green fire. "Castel de Remeis!"  
  
Unexpectedly, Alastor Moody's face appeared in the fires. "Sorry, they're not here. Try Hogwarts!" Moody disappeared.  
  
Madame Longbottom waved a hand by the fireplace and said "Hogwarts!" The fires seemed to flicker and then rose anew. The face of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the fires. "Albus, is Calliandra there?"  
  
Instead of answering, Dumbledore moved aside to be replaced by Mrs. Snape. "Right here, Gen."  
  
"Get over here. The protection charm around the Grangers has been triggered."  
  
In the background, they could hear a murmur of voices. "What happened?" and "Where's Hermione?"  
  
"No need to worry yet. This does not rate as mortal peril. Only that someone showed undue and negative interest in their property or their person." said Madame Longbottom.  
  
"I'll be right there, Gen." Her face disappeared but other conversations could be heard still. "No, Severus, there is no need for you to come along. I'm just going to have a quick look. You don't think I can handle even that?"  
  
"That is beside the point, I am her -"  
  
"Send word if you need reinforcements." Dumbledore added. "We will be prepared."  
  
"I'll meet you there." said the potions master.  
  
Serjanus' voice came loud and clear. "No, Severus. Your place is here. Here you will stay."  
  
A minute later, Calliandra appeared in the Longbottom parlor holding a wishbringer in her hand. She bowed towards the fire making sure her husband could clearly see her. "Made it safe and sound, Serjanus."  
  
"Be careful." Serjanus admonished knowing the daredevil streak his wife had.  
  
"Same to you. I'll pass by Diagon Alley and pick up a few things all right?" she replied.  
  
"Don't forget my chocolate frogs." With that Serjanus disappeared and the fires subsided.  
  
Madame Longbottom regarded Calliandra closely. "Chocolate frogs?"  
  
"It's Serjanus' secret vice." said Calliandra. "Actually, we use the frogs to test his reflexes and coordination."  
  
"I see. Ready to go?"  
  
Neville took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Wait! If you're sure that Hermione is all right, gran, I'll be on my way to Diagon Alley."  
  
"Of course, Neville. Do you have enough funds?" his grandmother inquired.  
  
"I'll be stopping by Gringotts first." Neville responded.  
  
"And when you get to Ollivanders don't forget to introduce yourself." A small smile graced his grandmother's normally stern countenance. Her grandson was taking small steps of independence and she was heartily glad of it. Not that it would stop her from meddling and being overly protective but she decided that she would exercise some restraint from now on.  
  
"No, gran. I won't forget. Good luck at Hermione's." Neville clutched his wishbringer charm and thought of being at Ollivanders. His figure faded until there was no longer a trace of him. A small echo of his voice lingered. "I'll be back in time for dinner."  
  
"Severus has done wonders with the boy, Calliandra." Madame Longbottom sniffed quietly. "I can scarce credit the change."  
  
"I don't think the positive effects are all one sided."  
  
"You ARE going to tell me what you two are doing so far from home?"  
  
"I'll tell you what I can. If you promise a long gossip session after we see to Hermione." Calliandra laughed. Madame Longbottom touched her friend's arm and together they apparated to the Granger house.  
  
They slowly faded into reality in the back garden. It was empty. Mrs. Longbottom knocked on the back door. Calliandra peered into the house looking for any signs of movement inside. She found none. The knock went unanswered.  
  
"It doesn't seem as if anyone is home," Calliandra commented. "Gen, I'll go around to the front. Cover me."  
  
Calliandra took off her robe revealing blue jeans and a thick wool sweater. She cast a warming spell on herself and inched the wand up her right sleeve. Madame Longbottom moved beside her. Calliandra opened the gate and advanced down the side of the house. She found herself sandwiched between the house and a high hedge running the length of the house. She paused and crouched low just as she got to the front of the house. She surveyed the street. There were two children playing in front of their house, an elderly man working on his card and a couple walking down the street. She peered closely reading their auras.  
  
"All I see are muggles," she whispered.  
  
"There has to be a wizard or witch about." Genevieve insisted. "The charm was triggered."  
  
Calliandra moved forward a little bit and scanned both ends of the street. "Wait, I see him. Standing under a tree pretending to be reading a paper. Disguise charm."  
  
"Harmless?"  
  
Calliandra squinted using her inner sight to see through the disguise charm's effects. "Short, a little pudgy, looks harmless but he has been touched by the dark arts and frequently it seems."  
  
"Just the one?"  
  
"So far." Seeing that the wizard was not moving from his position, Calliandra stepped back and stood up. Out of habit, she flexed her wrist and practiced drawing her wand quickly. "I'm up for a little exercise."  
  
Genevieve touched her friend's arm making sure she stayed where she was. They had always worked well as team because her mature deliberateness countered Calliandra's impulsiveness. "Capture his image and we'll add him to the Rogue's Gallery. You know that spell of yours has become quite handy I must say."  
  
Calliandra crouched and moved forward again drawing her wand out before her. She whispered the word "Capturis Veritas." Her wand tip glowed gold. She stood up quickly and pointed it at the wizard. The wand tip glowed red in an instant and she crouched down again. She waved her wand and a close up image of the wizard beneath the disguise charm materialized in front of her. "We have him."  
  
She moved forward cautiously and watched the wizard and the street scene carefully. The couple had reached the end of the street and crossed over. The elderly man had gone back inside his house. The two children were on the far end of the street opposite from the wizard.  
  
"He's walking away." Madam Longbottom looked her fill from behind her shoulder. She followed his movements until he was at the end of the street. "Not apparating. Strange."  
  
They waited a few minutes more to see if the wizard would return or had accomplices. Nothing else of consequence happened. "I'm going to pass this on to Severus." said his mother. "None of this feels right. None of it."  
  
~ * ~  
  
As his grandmother had said, Neville found himself in a room with four granite walls, no windows and no door. He pressed his palm on every wall until he found the one that sensed his bloodline. The wall disappeared instantly. In front of him was the back workroom of Ollivanders. A younger man with a shock of white hair was at the workbench. He turned around with a hand outstretched. "Hello, I'm Hugh Ollivander."  
  
"Neville Longbottom." Neville shook Hugh's hand. He couldn't help staring. Hugh looked exactly like a young Mr. Ollivander. "I don't mean to stare but -"  
  
"No worries, Neville. We younger sons have to stick together." Hugh laughed. "Can I help you with anything?"  
  
"Just here to do a bit of Christmas shopping."  
  
"You know the rules for underage Tradition members?" Hugh held up a small brooch pin with a small gemstone on it.  
  
"My gran just said that I would need some tracking device when I'm alone here."  
  
"Right." Hugh pinned the brooch pin inside a pocket on Neville's robes. "There you're all set. If you get in trouble just touch that brooch and whoever is on watch will come running."  
  
"Who's on watch today?" Neville patted the pin pocket making sure to remember its exact location. Even within the relative safety of Diagon Alley no one was guaranteed absolute safety.  
  
"I am, Mr. Longbottom," Mr. Ollivander appeared through the closed curtains separating the front of the store from the back. "Enjoy your shopping."  
  
"I will, sir. Thank you." Neville made his way to the front door of the store and stepped out into the bright, bustling street that was Diagon Alley.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Diagon Alley was alight with decorations and lively window displays. Harry and the Weasleys craned their necks to see the latest and greatest. They split up in front of Gringotts giving everyone three hours of shopping time before meeting back at Gringotts. Fred and George headed off to Zonko's. Bill and Ginny's destination was Flourish and Blotts. While Harry and Ron ran up the front steps of the wizard bank. Harry went up to a goblin and presented his gold key. As they were getting into a vault car they, Neville with a group of goblins in tow pulled up behind them. To their astonishment, the goblins bowed and called him "Mr. Longbottom." The goblins scattered. Neville saw then and came over.  
  
"Hi, Harry, Ron," Neville greeted them. "Shopping?"  
  
"Yeah, last minute stuff," said Ron. "So, the goblins know you well do they?"  
  
"Oh, not me. My grandmother." Neville explained. "Well, I have to go. See you around."  
  
"Hey, we're having ice creams at Fortescue's at about one o'clock. Can you meet us there?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sure!" They watched as Neville disappeared back into the bank lobby.  
  
"He gets stranger every year," Ron observed.  
  
~ * ~  
  
After dinner that evening, they gathered in the Room of Counsel. Hovering in the middle of the table was the capturis image of the intruder. It rotated slowly in the air. The image changed from spin to spin from the dark wizard with the disguise charm and then without. Uncharacteristically, the headmaster was pacing. Professor McGonagall's lips were set in a thin hard line.  
  
Severus leaned on the table palms flat. "It's Pettigrew. There is no doubt that he is on some mission."  
  
"And you have no idea what it could be about?" McGonagall asked. "What could he want with Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Even I am not privy to all his plans, Minerva." Severus bowed his head. His long hair hung loose shading his face from view. He rubbed his right temple. He was starting to have flashbacks of his timewalk. This was a most inconvenient time. He sat down heavily and gritted his teeth trying to maintain control.  
  
"It is very obvious what Tom is after," Dumbledore placed a hand on the chair of Godric Gryffindor as if needing to gather strength from the founder himself. Behind him the others all waited for him to continue. "He is after leverage as we are. Ms. Granger would be very valuable for several reasons. She is a way to Harry Potter. Her intellectual achievements and natural magical talents are known. Were she turned in some way, her intellect and power could be put to good use."  
  
"But she's not a pureblood." said Sprout.  
  
"Neither is Voldemort," said Nicholas.  
  
"I would think that they would rather kill her than recruit her." Sprout said.  
  
"Voldemort sees her as useful and for now her potential utility is keeping her safe." Serjanus put in. He looked to his son but for once the potions master was silent.. In fact, he sat in his chair rubbing his temples hard. "The immediate problem is this Pettigrew."  
  
"Now that we know his disguise we can better track him. Let's put someone on him and see where that leads to." Calliandra suggested.  
  
"The Tradition will put active surveillance on the Granger home. We can at least see if there is a pattern to this Pettigrew's visits." said Madame Longbottom. "Severus, do you agree?"  
  
Professor Snape had cradled his head in his hands and was rocking back and forth. The stress and the topic of conversation served to trigger a cascade of memories from dozens of timelines. His mind was flooded with images and sounds. Snape was doing his best to assimilate all that he saw. Serjanus wheeled quickly almost on a single wheel and rushed to his son's side. He knew or suspected what was happening. He shook his son hard. Calliandra called her son's name over and over again. Severus was unresponsive. He just kept rocking.  
  
"Albus, Nicholas, Minerva, Filius, help me! He's timewalking!" Serjanus drew his wand and prepared to cast a spell. When he saw the others point their wands at Severus he quickly said. "No, no I don't need your help with Severus. I need you to protect the Room of Counsel. I might release too much energy. My control is not what it once was. Calliandra will help me if needed."  
  
Too alarmed to ask questions now, Dumbledore, Flamel, McGonagall and Filius drew their wands and began to chant in unison a powerful shield of protection for the room. The very walls and floor began to glow a calming blue.  
  
A string of golden light erupted out of Serjanus' raised wand. The golden energy expanded until it enveloped both he and his son. The others shielded their eyes. Serjanus was right. His control was not fine or controlled. The flow of energy from him was strong, pure and wild. The energy hummed and crackled increasing in intensity and volatility. Calliandra drew her own wand and began to control the energy all around them.  
  
Severus was unaware of all that was happening outside of his physical body. In his mind, he was once again floating in air watching myriad images pass him by. He had seen an image of Voldemort and Hermione. He pointed at it and his body followed the timestream that the image represented. His rage built within him as he saw Voldemort force Hermione to take the new Valde Commendus. Hermione knelt before the dark lord and swore her life's allegiance.  
  
The next images haunted him the most. It was Hermione looking coolly on as Harry Potter in his knees, a knife protruding from his chest, begged her to help him. Next to him was Ron Weasley. His body was twisted in angles impossible to achieve in a live body. There were bodies everywhere of students and professors. Around the edges stood the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord held up a few severed heads and laughed in glorious triumph. The scene was being played out in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The floor was awash in blood. The enchanted ceiling was dark. Off to the side, he saw himself alone and barely alive encased in a full body bind spell. He was dazed but conscious. Hermione walked to him a soft smile on her lips and her eyes sparkling with desire. She whispered her love for him for his ears alone. She traced his lips with a finger. She rained kisses on his face from forehead to chin. She kissed him again. He tasted the sweetness of her lips followed by her need as he opened his mouth to welcome her. He felt the press of her soft hand on his shoulder. Next, he felt sudden blistering heat engulf his body. She broke the kiss then and pulled a bloodied knife from his unresisting body.  
  
For the second time in his life, Severus ran. He ran from the images. He ran from the possibilities. He ran and ran ignoring the other images shifting around him. He heard a voice calling his name and felt another presence coming towards him. He wanted to keep running but the voice made him pause. It sounded so loving and needful. Very far away he heard another voice - female. Then he felt a hand clamp hard on his shoulder. He was whirled about almost brutally to face his father who stood tall and unencumbered by a wheelchair.  
  
"It's time to come out, Severus." Serjanus soothed. "Come, don't let go of my hand now. You may close your eyes and relax your senses if you wish. That may help." Severus closed his eyes. As they moved, Severus could feel some of the older man's mental strength seep into his own psyche calming and reviving him simultaneously.  
  
Severus was so very tired. He held on and followed without resistance. He clung to his father's astral form. Soon they found themselves in the real world once again. Serjanus' slumped form slowly righted itself. His very expression said how bone tired he was. He put his wand down and ended the spell. Calliandra knelt by her husband applying healing and recovery spells instantly. Severus opened his eyes warily afraid of what he would see. The golden energy had faded. The protection spell was ebbing too. Everyone was looking at him. He glanced as his father first to make sure he was all right. Serjanus managed a weak nod.  
  
"Is there something else I need to know about?" Dumbledore asked. This time it was not fury that furrowed his brow. His concern was almost palpable.  
  
Severus took a deep breath and physically composed himself before answering. "A side effect from my summonings, Albus.  
  
"Timewalking is dangerous and unpredictable, Severus," said Flitwick. "One could easily get lost and never be able to find their way again."  
  
"I usually stay in one place so I don't get lost but not -" Severus answered. He was taking long deep breaths by now and willing his trembling hands to stillness. "I could not this time."  
  
"How often do you have these episodes?" asked Professor Sprout.  
  
"Not often. It was triggered by our conversation."  
  
"I see." Dumbledore took his seat opposite Severus. He knew that whatever had pulled Severus in was powerful and important. He could see how shaken Severus was despite his best efforts to regain his usual stoic façade. He shared a look with Minerva. She mouthed the words "Go on." His tone now was gentle and easy. "Severus, we were speaking of Tom Riddle and Ms. Granger. Did you see any potential futures about them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you tell us what you saw?"  
  
"Voldemort gave the Valde Commendus to her. She swore fealty to him." With effort, Severus kept his voice steady. "She helped him conquer Hogwarts. Then she delivered her friends, the school, the Tradition. All of us betrayed. Potter stabbed. Weasley dead. Many of you beheaded. You, Albus, quartered and beheaded. She ran a knife through my heart."  
  
"Thank you, Severus." They all sat back absorbing this latest revelation. After some minutes of silence, Dumbledore stood up and addressed them all. "Severus has described only a potential timeline horrific though it may be. I believe that Riddle does indeed plan to use the Valde Commendus on those vital to our plans not just Ms. Granger. This is a warning to us all. This is not OUR future. We may yet prevent it from happening in our timeline. We must redouble our efforts and end this conflict."  
  
"And Ms. Granger?" McGonagall asked out loud.  
  
Madame Longbottom glanced at Mrs. Snape. "Hermione will be protected. But, more importantly, she must be made strong enough to resist Voldemort. All timelines have common events. I believe that he will try for her and we need to make her ready to face him."  
  
"We were going to wait until after the holiday to begin her instruction but I see that we do not have that time any longer," Mrs. Snape said putting a cold compress on her husband's forehead. The color was coming back to Serjanus' face and his breathing was no longer shallow.  
  
"She will be told of what I saw," Severus said. "I must tell her."  
  
"We cannot put a burden like that on a child!" exclaimed Sprout.  
  
"The knowledge will make her stronger. The training will be difficult especially for a muggle born." rasped Serjanus. "She will need that strength soon enough."  
  
"Agreed!" said Dumbledore. "Minerva, please be present when Ms. Granger is told."  
  
The head of Gryffindor looked at him grave and serious. "Albus, we should move her quarters elsewhere somewhere more secure."  
  
"Would that not be obvious to the student body?" asked Nicholas."  
  
"Not if I make her my teaching assistant. It would be in name only however it would offer the excuse of new quarters." Minerva replied.  
  
"Make it so," said Dumbledore. "And, Minerva, give her prefect badge to Ron Weasley."  
  
"Weasley?" Snape asked.  
  
"Yes, yes, Mr. Weasley will do nicely," Dumbledore's eyes had a familiar look to them as if he was seeing something no one else could. "There are qualities in him that even he does not realize he possesses."  
  
"Weasley?" Snape repeated.  
  
"Yes, Severus. You have Mr. Longbottom and I have Mr. Weasley." The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes. The meeting was adjourned and assignment made with smaller meetings set to discuss the items in more depth. 


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26  
  
The short stick rolled lazily across the stone floor. It collided with a feather of blue then another of wispy gray. On it rolled until it reached the far wall by the fireplace. There it came to rest finding solemn camaraderie with its brethren. Broken quill shafts and feathers littered the floor of the Infirmary. Uncharacteristically, Madam Pomfrey ignored the aberrant state of her normally spotless floor. Her mind was on her student. Near the fireplace, Demos hunched forward in a transfigured adult-sized student desk doggedly practicing his letters on pieces of parchment. He had learned block lettering easily enough. Mastery of cursive writing was proving elusive.  
  
Under her bemused eye, he practiced on and on comparing his handiwork with her writing on a makeshift blackboard on the wall. The only noise in the room was the gliding of Demos' quill. The serenity was punctuated by the occasional crack of yet another broken quill. Demos automatically tossed the useless bit over his shoulder and glanced at Madam Pomfrey who was finalizing her potions inventory at her desk. Wordlessly, the nurse levitated a new quill to her eager pupil. He snatched it out of the air and began writing again. A bowl of ice cream sat on his desk. He was down to a bowl every four hours now. The arrangement suited him well enough but he still could not stop his growing loathing of ice cream in all its shapes and forms.  
  
Professor Flitwick heard the last crack as he passed by the Infirmary on his way to the Great Hall. His curiosity got the better of him and he looked in. Wordlessly, he eyed the bits of wood and feathers strewn about the floor. "Everything all right in here?"  
  
"Demos is just practicing his writing. He's improving by the minute." Pomfrey nodded towards Demos. "Filius, since you're here, I'd like to give you the usual treatment now."  
  
"Oh, yes, yes, splendid idea." The tiny professor sat up on one of the beds.  
  
"Feeling better now that your sitting duties are limited?" Pomfrey opened a cabinet and took out a rack of vials. Each vial was labeled. She picked out the one belonging to Flitwick in between vials labeled "McGonagall" and "Sprout."  
  
"I must say I didn't realize how sitting duty exhausted me. Thanks to your booster potions I feel quite recovered."  
  
"How have you been sleeping? You haven't been indulging your companion with nightly escapades have you?" She approached him. She held the vial to the light to make sure that it was the correct vial.  
  
"What exactly are you referring to, Poppy?"  
  
"Hmm, so you take no part in the impromptu spell tag sessions in the greenhouses? Wasn't it your team's practice last night?" The nurse emptied the vial into a small cup, added some water then stirred. She held the cup out to him.  
  
"I did not participate per your orders," Flitwick downed the potion quickly. "Besides, with Hagrid and Filch in the same round it would have been ill-advised for me to join in."  
  
"Wise decision. I would not have cared to explain to Albus how his warmaster ended up in a traction sling." Pomfrey cast a diagnosis spell on her patient and saw that all things were normal. The stress of the past few months had taken its physical toll on the faculty. But Flitwick had suffered the most due to his heritage, size and age. He had not shrugged any duty that was his by right of being a head of house so he had borne double what the rest had had to.  
  
"Hah, as if those two could have bested me," Flitwick was a past dueling champion and one underestimated him at their eventual cost. "They rely too much on brute force or superiority in numbers. They need to learn about tactics and strategy."  
  
"Then teach but don't do." Pomfrey cast a quick rejuvenation spell. Her patient gasped as the spell took effect. "There you're done."  
  
Flitwick stood up and stretched. He glanced at Demos who was too engrossed in his practice to notice much else. He tugged on Pomfrey's uniform. "Poppy, may I have a minute of your time? In your office please."  
  
Mystified, Pomfrey led the way into her office. She closed the door behind her. "Well, Filius?"  
  
Flitwick did not mince words. He quickly cast a Circle of Anomi. "Tell me what's wrong with Albus."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He has lost his temper more in the last month than he has in all the decades I've known him." Flitwick paced in front of her. "I look at him and I can feel something is wrong. His reactions verge on the extreme sometimes. When was the last time you examined him?"  
  
"Six weeks ago. There were no indications of illness. I'm sure of it."  
  
"You've seen how erratic his behavior has been. No one else has said anything to you about him?"  
  
"If any one has I could not divulge so to you. The rules of my profession apply."  
  
"You did not answer my question, Poppy." Flitwick stopped pacing and looked at her.  
  
Poppy avoided looking at him. She looked off into the distance. "I believe I did, Filius."  
  
"I see." After a moment, he nodded in unspoken understanding.  
  
"Albus is under a great deal of stress, Filius."  
  
"If it is only that then my mind is eased greatly." Flitwick rubbed his chin and looked at the nurse earnestly. "It is only that isn't it?"  
  
"It is stress for the most part. As people age, their reactions to stress can vary. Albus is not as young as he was when he faced Grindelwald."  
  
"None of us are." Flitwick sighed. "Thank you. I was worried that's all."  
  
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You were being a true friend."  
  
"I tried to talk to Minerva but, outside of official meetings, she seems to be avoiding me of late. I cannot get anything out of Nicholas either."  
  
"Very like they know as little as you. The heads of houses will be targets and potential hostages so Albus tells me. It seems to be a wise strategy for all of you to know only certain pieces and not the whole." She smiled encouragingly at him. "Albus has told me that you have qualms about the task he has set for you. If you need to talk, I'm here."  
  
"You know about our tasks?"  
  
"We all have assigned tasks, Filius. Even I."  
  
Flitwick's eyes showed genuine puzzlement. "What has Albus asked you to do?"  
  
"Think upon what I have said. It will not take you long to imagine what it could be." With that she stood and opened the door. She dissolved the Cirquo Anomi and swept out of her office leaving Flitwick alone to think.  
  
A few minutes later he came out of her office. As he passed by her on his way out, Flitwick gave her a very strange look - a mixture of fear and wary respect. She broke eye contact quickly. She knew that he knew. That was enough.  
  
~ * ~  
  
The stinging wind stabbed at her cheeks. She could feel the late afternoon chill deep in her bones but as Hermione sat in her garden, she felt warm and alive. She was too keyed up to stay indoors. She fished the owl post from her pocket, unfolded it and reread it. The owl post had arrived at dawn and she had by now read it for the fiftieth time. It said:  
  
Ms. Granger,  
  
Your academic achievements and contributions to the school have qualified you for a unique opportunity. Please be advised that upon your return to Hogwarts after the Christmas holiday, you will be appointed my new teaching assistant.  
  
Appointment to an assistant's position is a rare honor. Only one other student at Hogwarts has ever been elevated to such a position while still attending Hogwarts. His name was Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Appointment to an assistant's position is a rare honor. Only one other student at Hogwarts has ever been elevated to such a position while still attending Hogwarts. You may have heard of him. His name was Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Professor Snape and I will be arriving at your parent's residence right after breakfast to discuss the matter with you and your parents. Please respond immediately if this time is inconvenient.  
  
I am looking forward to our new association.  
  
Professor Minerva McGonagall  
  
Her parents were ecstatic while she had been stunned by the offer and the circumstance. Even after Professors Snape and McGonagall's arrival, she had still not found the words to adequately express how she felt. It was all too much to absorb.  
  
Privately, the two professors had informed her of what Professor Snape had seen about her and Voldemort as well as about Peter Pettigrew's appearance the day before. Her initial horror had been replaced by a steely determination not to let that particular future happen. No, this swan would be under no one's control, she thought. She would be free and strong. Now, as she sat in the garden marveling at the unexpected turns her life had recently taken, she vowed to make the most of everything to come the good and the bad.  
  
She sat outside for a few minutes more before going back inside for dinner. She smiled to herself. After dinner she would compose her congratulatory post to Ron for becoming a prefect. If she sent it about noon tomorrow, it should arrive after Professor McGonagall's own letter.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Keeping secrets from one's partner was a sure way to dissolution of that partnership. In all the years of his marriage, Serjanus Snape had never looked at another woman, lied to his wife or kept anything of real import from her. He was seriously contemplating doing the latter. He lay in bed that night thinking back at what happened when he linked with Severus and pulled him out of the time stream. The images replaying in his mind made sleep impossible.  
  
Every timeline had common events. These events were usually of such a pivotal nature that their presence was an absolute requirement in most timelines involving the same person, object or place. Through years of discipline and mastery, Serjanus could sift through multiple timelines and pick out the salient events or threads of connected events. He had done so almost effortlessly while he was leading Severus back out of his mind. Because Severus' mind had been focused on Hermione Granger, it was threads of common events to her probable futures that had flashed around them on their return path. He was fairly certain that Severus was not himself fully aware of these events in their entirety. Severus did not have the training or the experiencing to even create those streams himself. He would only be able to see singular images of singular events as he had confessed to him and Calliandra.  
  
Serjanus twisted in bed pulling his arm over his head. He groaned out loud. He had tried every meditation technique he knew to purge himself of the memories but the memories were persistent. He knew well enough the consequences of intervening in timelines and future probabilities. A word here, a small gesture there could make all the difference. How could he keep this from his son? Should he even try?  
  
Beside him, Calliandra stirred and, ever alert to her husband's needs, woke up. "Serjanus, do you need your pain potion?"  
  
"No, go back to sleep." His eyes drifted to the window. Gazing at the night sky over Hogwarts always used to soothe him but not it seems tonight.  
  
"And I believe that boggarts are dementors in disguise. I know something is bothering you. During all our meals today you kept staring at Severus and Demos."  
  
"I was trying not to be so obvious."  
  
"You were only obvious to me, love." She turned around to her side until she was facing him. "I have reservations about our demon doppelganger and we disagree on that point. Have you had a change of heart?"  
  
"No, I have not changed my mind. I sense no remaining malice in him."  
  
"Out with it then or neither one of us will get any sleep tonight. I need my beauty sleep. Wizard blood or no, I'm not getting any younger."  
  
Serjanus chuckled and turned over himself. He ran a finger across her cheek. "Beauty itself does not need sleep."  
  
"Flatterer!" Calliandra took his hand in hers. "Tell me what's wrong. If it's not Demos, then it must be Severus. Will we never stop worrying about our boy?"  
  
Serjanus sighed deeply and rested his head on her chest. She stroked his hair slowly not pressing him for an answer right away. He answered in his own time. "I saw real events, Calliandra. Wonderful, fantastic things that will happen no matter what the future will be."  
  
"Wonderful? Why then are you so quiet and sad?"  
  
"Because the events leading up to these wondrous events will be difficult for Severus." Serjanus wrapped an arm about his wife. "Can a father not want to shield his child from hurt, from disappointment? He has endured so much already."  
  
"If these wonderful things will in fact occur and ultimately benefit our son, then again why worry so?" Calliandra moved to stroke her husband's bare shoulders.  
  
"It will benefit wizard kind, Calliandra, of that I am certain. But I pulled us out before I could see how it would go for Severus. I need to know that this will not destroy him."  
  
"Severus has always been strong. A true survivor. Whatever this is, he can overcome it."  
  
"This is not some potion or spell, Calliandra, nor a specific problem with a defined solution."  
  
"Then stop talking in circles and tell me what this is."  
  
"I glimpsed a timestream where I saw Hermione become something glorious."  
  
"Really? In what way?"  
  
"I will not spoil it for you but believe me when I say that she will be a beacon in our world."  
  
Calliandra sat up fully awake. Her eyes shone with excitement. She knew her husband was not going to reveal any more for fear of contaminating current timelines, but that did not mean she couldn't try to wheedle hints out of him. "They will fall in love with each other that much we can assume. Did you see them together finally? Will he be there by her side?"  
  
"He will grow to love her but I do not believe it will be mutual. Someone was by Hermione's side, true, but it was not Severus. My son, our boy, stood off to the side hidden in the shadows as he has always been looking at her with such pain while -." His voice trailed into silence. He could not continue.  
  
Calliandra did not like the anguished look on her husband's face. She said the words reflected in his eyes that his mouth could not bear to utter. "Demos stood by her side." It was not a question.  
  
~ * ~  
  
A/N: It has been a long time to get to this point. I hope the ride has been satisfying to the readers so far. The rest of the way will be bumpy with many hairpin turns. This started out as an SS/HG fic and that IS the way it will end.  
  
Thank you to all for your comments, critiques and questions. If the story ever veers too far from believability please let me know. I've tried to keep it entertaining as well as believable. Enjoy! 


	27. Tales of the Wish Bringer

**  


Chapter 27

  
  


Tales of the Wish Bringer

  
**

Neville Longbottom dressed with great care today. His dark blue robes were newly bought courtesy of Madam Malkin. The white dress shirt underneath complemented the robes perfectly while his black shoes glinted in the sunlight. He spared a glance into the small mirror mounted on a wall in his room. The mirror was not very large just enough to see one's face with. Its frame was wrought silver with intricate carvings engraved on one side.

"Seems only yesterday you were fumbling with your buttons and ties." The mirror sniffed. "Now look at you."

"That WAS yesterday, mirror. My venomous tentacula is teething, remember. Almost lost a finger." Neville held up his hand inspecting the minute bite marks that were now just starting to fade.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately. You used to be such a quiet, predictable boy." 

Neville peered at himself. Reflected back at him was the same roundfaced boy he had always been if a little taller and less paunchy around the middle. "I haven't changed."

"What do you call staying up all night reading, experimenting with dangerous plants and whatever else I don't know about." 

"That's all so far - reading, herbology, a potion here and there."

"You used to stay up here all the time and I would tell you stories about your mum and dad until you fell asleep." The mirror's voice turned sullen. "I hardly ever see you what with school and gadding about doing errands for HER. Remember, she stood aside as the family plotted to kill you."

"They just wanted to scare the magic out of me not kill me." Neville inspected his shoes. "Gran is getting older. She can't do everything. Besides, I have to learn it all don't I?" 

"True. But still she's placing so much on your -"

"There is never a better time than today, never a better chance than right now. Can't avoid it so I'd better start learning it. A little bit every day." A sad expression flickered across his features. He blinked and the sadness was masked. He straightened and took a deep breath. "Mirror, will you tell me a story tonight?"

The mirror's voice brightened in tone rising an octave or two. "Lovely! A good long story. About Frank?"

"No, about magic and adventure, something diverting. Why don't you think about it while I'm gone."

"Where are you off to now?"

"St. Mungo's." Neville walked to his desk and opened a locked drawer. 

The mirror had no ready reply. In the silence, Neville withdrew a leather-bound journal. He placed it gently almost reverently into his robe pocket. "Say hello to Frank for me will you."

"I will, mirror." Neville opened his bedroom door. "I will."

  


~ * ~

  


There in the permanent resident ward at St. Mungo's late that morning, a lone voice could be heard reading. The charge nurse knew better than to interrupt or forbid the action. The boy's reading always lulled her patients into a peaceful sleep. For this one day a year, her patients didn't need a calming potion or a sleep charm.

Neville reclined in the arm chair. He usually read them stories of Christmas or short stories. Today he decided to read from his father's old journal. He looked over at his parents. Their childlike eyes looked back at him waiting for the story to continue. _I don't think you understand a word I'm saying but at least I have your attention._

He had just finished November's journal entries. He turned the page and began on December.

__

December 2 - I am going to do it, journal. I am going to talk to her and tell her how I feel. Then I'm going to ask her to the Yule ball. There is never a better time than today; never a better chance than right now. I'm going to tell her today.

December 3 - She said yes! By the gods, I thought I would faint in the hallway. I found her waiting for me outside of her Charms class after breakfast. She smiled. I smiled back and promptly dropped all my books. Imbecile! While picking them up, I stumbled my way through the words somehow. She touched my cheek and said yes. I was late for McGonagall's class but it was worth losing five house points. 

December 6 - I have to owl Mum for some money. She will not be pleased at all. Alice and I got carried away at Honeydukes. I teased her horribly about her fondness for sugar quills. She teased me most unfairly in return about my chocolate frogs. My card collection isn't complete yet. That's why I was buying so many. I tried to explain this but she wouldn't stop laughing. Father will tease me, too, when he finds out. I can just hear him, "Frank, how can you manage our portfolios when a small allowance overwhelms you so?" I have yet to think of a good reply.

December 7 - Study, take exam, get a good grade, study some more. It's an endless cycle. What's it all for? NEWTs next year I suppose.

December 9 - The Slytherins and the Gryffindors had another row at supper. All this feuding is silly. I don't think anyone remembers how the argument even started. What's so bad about admitting you're wrong when you ARE wrong? Father says it's a waste of energy to bear grudges. Time usually proves them false or mistaken. I have to agree. Dumbledore locked us all in the tower tonight as punishment. Alice and I will have to take our walk another time. Too bad, it's a full moon tonight. A walk by the lake would have been glorious.

December 11- It's done. At my request, Mum has extended an invitation to Alice and her parents to come have dinner at the house sometime during the holiday. I hope they like me. Maybe I should get a haircut? I'll ask Mirror when I get home. 

December 13 - I saw the perfect flower in greenhouse three today. I think it's a type of orchid. Adele will surely know what it is. It would look so nice in her hair just so. I'll try to get out tonight and -

Neville heard a small noise. He stopped reading and looked around. His father was lightly snoring with an arm curled protectively around his mother. He tucked the covers around them both. Pocketing the journal, he left them to their sleep.

His grandmother was out in the hall waiting patiently. "Asleep?"

"Yes." Neville nodded at the charge nurse. She smiled gratefully at him and went to check on her patients. "I'm sorry, gran. I should have told you what I was planning to read beforehand."

"It's all right, Neville. It was just ... just trying to hear his words again." Madame Longbottom put down her tea. "Did you know your voice is starting to sound like his and like your grandfather's ? So gentle yet firm and certain."

"I'm just glad my voice broke finally. For a while there, I was sure I would be stuck doing duets with Trevor for a very long time." 

Neville smiled at his grandmother. "Ready to go home?" 

"More than ready, my boy, more than ready. I don't suppose hospital chairs will ever become truly comfortable."

Neville offered her his arm. She leaned on him a bit more than usual as they made their way to the Floo station of the hospital. Several nurses and doctors who knew them on sight waved their good-byes. 

That night Neville stared at his ceiling. It had been a difficult day and though he was not apt by nature to brood overmuch, he could not help thinking about his parents. Thinking about his parents inevitably led his thoughts to Professor Snape and all his training. His eyes took in the tall pile of material still to be read on his writing desk. _I really should start a new book tonight. If I fall behind there will be no catching up!_

He sighed and the mirror heard him. "Are you ready for your story now?"

"I suppose." Neville rose and walked to his desk.

"You're not thinking of reading while I tell you the story are you?"

"I can do two things at the same time, mirror."

"And give neither endeavour the full justice it deserves," 

Neville perused through the titles. His mind was heavy tonight and reading would probably give him a headache. He returned to his bed. _I suppose I can read two tomorrow if I get up early._ "All right, mirror. You win. I hope you have a good story for me."

"Oh, I do. I do. This story is of ancient lore."

Neville groaned. "Not magical history, please. My head can't take all those dates and names tonight."

"What I'm about to tell you isn't history, Neville, it's LEGEND!" The mirror's voice had taken on a sublime quality full of fulsome depth and hints of mischief. "Get comfortable now."

Neville had rarely heard the mirror be as enthusiastic about a story as it sounded now. Intrigued himself, he closed his drapes and lit a small candle then settled himself in his bed as instructed.

"This is about the Wishbringer who -"

"Like my coins?"

"Yes and no. It's about the person, the woman actually, for whom the coins are named after." 

"What? There really was a human wishbringer?"

"Yes, oh most definitely, yes. This is the story of the first and only recorded instance of a real-life wishbringer."

Neville screwed up his face in concentration. Inwardly his mind browsed throught the books and documents in the Library as Snape had taught him. "What book is this story in? I don't see anything like this in the Library."

"This is oral history, Neville. I heard it first from your ancestor Mikhail Longhas on the night of the gifting when my maker, Pieros Ollivandros, gave me to Mikhail." The mirror paused then said, "What library are you talking about? I think it highly unlikely that it would be in any library. There was no other in attendance save myself and Mikhail swore Pieros to secrecy."

Neville thought quickly. The mirror had been passed down the generations of his family but it was better to be safe than sorry. He lied. "I ... I meant the Hogwarts school library, mirror. I looked up legends and myths there once and found no mention of a wishbringer, human or not."

"There hasn't been another one in several hundreds of years. Rather hard to make a history of someone that's not there."

"So she could teleport herself with just the power of her will anywhere, any time without spells or charms?"

"She could do that and more. Some say she could even make mortal wishes come true. Are you ready to hear the tale or not?"

"Yes, go on, please," Neville felt his spirits lift anticipating the story's beginning.

"The story begins in the olden times when our land was coveted then conquered by the Romans ..."

  


~ * ~

  


The wide cobbled road wound its way through the now conquered lands of Britannia. Upon it, Quintus Salerno, a seasoned legion commander in the armies of the Claudian Caesars, rode high on his horse heading for the field where his soldiers awaited. It was now three days since the deciding battle and he felt that even his hardened soldiers merited some relaxation. He reached the open field and surveyed the formations arrayed before him. Roman discipline ruled the day as each division moved as one with no dissension or break in the ranks. Armor and shield shone in the bright light of morning. Quintus nodded at his sub-commanders who raised then lowered their swords in acknowledgement.

Quintus addressed his troops, "On behalf of our wise emperor, Claudius, I commend you all for this our victory! This troublesome land is now Roman land once more!" This was greeted by loud and lusty cheers. "As a fitting reward, I now grant each division in their turn a day of liberty!" The ground shook as the men cheered and stamped their feet on the ground. 

"Sub-commanders, you have your orders, see to it that these men have their liberty!" With that, Quintus rode away back at a fast gallop. His faithful centurion, Armek Decidio, trailed him.

They entered Quintus' tent to find a sweating messenger standing on trembling legs. The messenger was a trusted slave, a Greek, belonging to Quintus' household by the name of Trigorin. He clutched his missive tightly in his hand. When he saw his master, Trigorin bowed deep and stayed so until Quintus greeted him. 

"Armek, get ale for Trigorin." Armek left to do as he was bid. Quintus bade Trigorin to sit on a chair nearby. Quintus looked at Trigorin. Trigorin was not an old man but neither was he in his prime. His wife, Calpurnia, must have had good reason to send him all this way. The man was clearly on the last vestiges of his endurance. "Good Trigorin, what tidings do you bring that should ask so much of you?" 

"Master Quintus, the lady Thesia bid me to deliver her message to you in all haste and import." Trigorun took a deep breath and seemed to steady himself. "Your fair wife Calpurnia, my lady, has the consumption. The physician say that it stems from the same plague that rages through Rome as we speak. Your daughter bid you to come at once for my lady cries out for you."

Quintus could hardly credit what he was hearing. Before he could say anything, Trigorin continued, "I must also impart that young master Cassius was afflicted with the same malady the day of my departure. I have here the physician's statement and a letter in the lady Calpurnia's own hand." Trigorin held out the letters.

Displaying the impeccable sense of timing that had served him well in the legion's campaigns in Gaul, Armek arrived with two goblets of ale. He gave one to the Greek and another to his friend and commander. Trigorin drank deep and fast. Finally he was able to fully rest from his long journey. He could feel the tendrils of exhaustion taking hold on his body. 

Quintus read the letters quickly. Calpurnia's letter he perused the secreted in his cloak for reading in private. The physician corroborated Trigorin's message. Both his wife and only son were gravely ill. Neither his face nor his voice betrayed the churning emotions within him. But his eyes did and well he knew of this one weakness. He stood and turned away from his audience. He took a sip of ale. "Armek, find Trigorin a bed in the medical tent. Trigorin, our camp physician is a Greek, Poladorus, he finds Roman company tiring so your presence should be welcome. You have my thanks and my favor, Trigorin. You may ask anything of me that I have the power to give."

"Master, you know what favor I would ask. You have always known." Trigorin said.

"This time I will not deny you. You are getting on and wish to see your family again. I understand." Quintus turned and faced his faithful servant. "Bear witness, Armek, that I now release Trigorin from my service. He is now a free man. I will gladly sponsor you for Roman citizenship if you so desire." Quintus held out his hand.

Trigorin smiled and grasped Quintus' hand. "Thank you. Your offer is most generous."

"Nothing more than what you have earned. Now go and ease your aching body in a bed." 

Armek led Trigorin to the medical tent then returned to his commander's tent. Quintus would need a friend more than a centurion now. His thoughts traveled to the last time he saw the lady Calpurnia. It had been a month before their march to Britannia. Even though he was not family, Quintus' household had always treated him as like a distant uncle. Calpurnia had mended his cloak and had new boots made for him. She showed so much kindness to him and truly to any who sought her aid. To think of her ravaged by sickness hurt his heart deeply. He entered the tent to find Quintus pacing.

"I must go. I cannot go." Quintus muttered. "I must see her. I must. Yet, I cannot."

Armek stood watching him for a time before saying, "You must go."

"Never in our long marriage has she ever asked much of me."

"I will have our horses readied."

"She has ever been the wife of my heart. Wretched soldier that I am, she has still stayed by my side." Quintus stopped his pacing and looked at Armek directly. "She may already be dead, Armek. It has been nearly a month's time since Trigorin left."

"Consumption can linger, Quintus. Calpurnia is a strong woman."

"Do you know that in her letter she only asks for my presence? No demands, no flowery pleadings. I married a strong woman, yes."

"She needs you now. Go to her."

Quintus was silent. He opened a box and took out roll of parchment. He handed it to Armek. "See here, Armek, a list of all my soldiers who have asked leave of me in order to return to their own afflicted kin at home. Go on read it."

Armek unrolled the parchment. Some of the names he recognized by name and sight. Others he knew only as names or faces within the formations. He lost count after thirty names. "I did not realize there were so many."

"I have denied them all," Quintus sighed. "I have never asked any of my men to do any more than what I was prepared to do myself. If they were denied so must I."

"Aurelius Trachus will be arriving soon to take over your command, Quintus. We are scheduled to leave within five weeks. Surely no one would question were we to leave a little earlier."

"I will not leave my command. I cannot." Quintus crossed his arms over his chest. "But Trachus is coming from Rome. We can meet Trachus along the way thereby hand my command to him at least a week early. Armek, we leave in two days." 

Preparations to leave were immediately begun. Trigorin and Armek saw to every detail. No one saw anything amiss with their commander leaving early. Quintus was an honorable man and all knew that Britannia was his last campaign before retirement. A small feast was prepared on the eve of his departure. 

"A toast, Quintus, to your long service to the empire." Crasus, a subcommander, raised his goblet to his commander. "And to the final conquering of Britannia."

"To Quintus and Britannia!" they all said.

The food was served and conversation flowed easily around the table. 

"This campaign is not as I had expected, Crasus." said Temor, "The natives give us food and tribute without being asked or ordered. All conquered peoples should be so cooperative."

"I have heard murmurs among them that we being tolerated." Crasus replied. 

"They do not have a choice, do they?"

"They feel that they do. My liasson officer tells me that they smile and serve because they know that we will not be here for long."

"And by what wise oracle do they base this belief on?" 

Armek had been listening in and could not restrain his curiousity any longer. "Yes, Crasus, I am curious to know as well."

"They speak of a wish that has been made by one of their leaders that will -"

"A wish!" Temor snorted. "Foolish, ignorant savages."

"They truly believe in this, Temor. Because of it, we now count ourselves very fortunate."

"Who is this leader that commands their faith so?" Armek asked.

"That is a mystery. No one will reveal who he is. They refer to him as 'the wisher' and nothing else. They say that the wisher has great powers that have protected them for many years."

"Hah! Wishing did not do them any good against the might of our legions, did it?" Temor crowed. "It took us only a day to secure their surrender."

"Their quick surrender only shows that their leaders are wise nothing more, preferring peace to bloodshed." Quintus observed from across the table. "There are other parts of Britain that will be less cooperative, Temor. I am sure that Trachus will make certain your division does not become stale."

"I surely hope not. My men are more than ready." Temor raised his glass and nodded at his old comrade.

The next day Quintus' departure was seen by almost the full company. The soldiers saluted him as he passed. The following day they were well away from the camp. A messenger from the Emperor himself stopped their party. Quintus frowned at the dispatch.

Aurelius Trachus was dead of the plague. Trachus' legions under a new command was being dispatched to Gaul to help crush yet another rebellion. Quintus should not expect relief until the next season. It was early spring now which meant that relief, if it came, would only come in the summer. A summer that Calpurnia would not see. Quintus turned his party around and headed back to camp.

Upon his return, his men marked that he was a changed man. He rarely left his tent and when he did his temper was vile. Every day he would make an animal sacrifice to the gods for the deliverance of his family. After the sacrifices, he rode alone through the hills driving himself and his horse to exhaustion. Armek or Trigorin took turns trailing him. They often returned with the setting of the sun and Quintus slung over his horse. 

Armek remembered the talk of the wisher. He sought out Crasus. Together with Trigorin they convinced the elders to communicate to the wisher the plight of their commander. The elders had witnessed the growing madness of the Roman commander. Fearing future reprisals and hostilities from the occupying Romans, the elders agreed to ask the wisher to help.

The following night a young boy approached Trigorin with a response from the wisher. He and Armek were to meet with the wisher on the night of the full moon. They were to bring an article of clothing belonging to Quintus and some item belonging to his wife. The wisher would then make it possible for Quintus to visit his dying wife and son before it was too late. In exchange the wisher required two things - one hundred pieces of Roman coin and their avowed lifelong silence on the matter.

Two nights later, Armek and Trigorin rode outside of the village. The wisher bade them go to a point where the river split into two streams. There they would deliver the items and the wish granted. As they rode to the appointed place, neither man voiced their concerns. They had not told Quintus of their plan fearing not his wrath but his disappointment. It had been too long. A trip to Rome now would be fruitless. The wisher was their last hope.

They reached the correct place and dismounted. The moon cast a bright reflection on the waters. They looked around them but saw no one else nor heard any other sound. The two grew uneasy.

"I don't like this, Trigorin. It is too quiet. I don't even hear the sounds of night." Armek turned his horse around surveying the area.

"A few minutes more, Armek. If I have learned nothing else, I know that no one is as punctual as a Roman." Trigorin said. 

It was good advice. After five minutes they heard a rustling off to the side. A small lone figure emerged from the brush. By instinct, Armek's hand went to his sword. Trigorin touched him on the arm. "Save that, Armek. There is one of him and two of us."

The figure stepped closer. As he stood next to the two Romans, it's hood was slipped off. The "he" was a woman with dark hair and dark eyes. Her pale skin was luminous in the moonlight. In a clear voice she asked, "I am the wisher, Phaedre. Have you brought what I asked?"

Trigorin stared. He had seen more beautiful women in his time but never had he ever seen one so confident and assured. She seemed very young to his eyes no more than twenty if he was not mistaken. Her eyes were direct and unafraid. Next to him, Armek was equally stunned. "Yes, wisher. I have the items you requested."

"Phaedre, Trigorin, my name is Phaedre. Please call me by my name."

"As you wish, Phaedre."

"Good." Phaedre stretched her arms out. "Place upon my arms the item belonging to your commander, Trigorin."Phaedre commanded. "Above that place the item belonging to your lady."

Trigorin folded then laid Quintus' cloak across her arms. On top of the red cloak, he placed Calpurnia's letter.

Phaedre closed her eyes. Trigorin and Armek watched her intently. Her lips moved but no sound came forth from them. She made no other movement for a few minutes. Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled shyly. She motioned for the items to be removed from her arms. Trigorin lifted the letter and Armek the cloak.

"It is done." She pulled a small package from her cloak. "Take this and place it within the grasp of your commander. It contains healing plants which will cure his family. He must brew the leaves and have his wife and son drink of it."

"Wait, how is Quintus to get to Rome? This is useless if he cannot get to Rome in time." Armek asked his alarm mounting by the second.

"In his sleep tonight will he journey. When he wakes, he will be in Rome. He will return when the moon has lost its fullness." Phaedre pulled the cloak over her head and turned to leave. "Remember, he must bring the leaves with him."

Phaedre walked away and before their eyes disappeared as if swallowed by the night. The two men could not make anything of what had just transpired. In a daze, they rode back to camp and did as she instructed. Trigorin wrote a short note and affixed it to the small package before putting the package in Quintus' grasp. The two sat vigil by their commander's bedside. Sometime before dawn the two sentinels fell asleep.

The next morning they found the commander's bed empty. Armek rode all through the camp but no one had seen their commander. Trigorin calculated the timing of the waning moon. Armek returned and together the two devised a ruse. They explained to all that the commander had gone hunting. Trigorin and Armek were to follow him. They would all return in a few days.

With that said, the two men rode out complete with provisions for a party of three. They returned four days later and once more sat vigil by the bedside. On the fifth morning, Quintus Salerno returned both in body and in spirit. 

"It is a miracle of the gods!" Quintus exclaimed. He held up a small scroll. "I was truly there. Look this traveled back here with me. It is a letter of thanks from Calpurnia. I will burn it with my offering this morning."

"Truly a miracle, Quintus." said Armek. "Are you quite sure that Calpurnia and Cassius are fully recovered?"

"Yes. As soon as they drank the mixture of Trigorin's leaves, the consumption and fever began to abate. Slowly, true but better than anything the physician's had tried." Quintus beamed. "Where did you learn the healer's arts, Trigorin?"

Trigorin grinned. "At the foot of dark-haired, dark-eyed goddess."

  


~ * ~

  


Several hundred years later, a young woman of no more than twenty summers relayed the tale of the Romans and the Wisher to a wizard visiting the village - Mikhail Lohngas. "And that was the start of many adventures as Trigorin and I traveled the known world."

Mikhail sipped his mead. His eyes had not strayed from the girl all through her tale. "What do you propose to do now, Phaedre?"

"A wish made for the sake of vanity must be undone. I am going to wish to die, Mikhail, soon." Phaedre stared at the fire. "My loves have died. My gift has denied me children. And I can no longer bear the loneliness of eternal youth."

"So, why have you come to me? I will not help you take your own life."

"I do not want all that I have seen and lived through to be lost. I owe that much to those in my past. I want to make certain that the tales are not lost so that some day any who have the same gifts will have the guidance that I did not."

"Again, why me? You have kin here that would -"

"No, Mikhail. I asked my gift to bring me someone who will do as I ask and not profit from it. That someone is you." Phaedre opened a cabinet and motioned to the contents. "Here is all I am, all that I have to give to my future sister. I want you to bring this into the future and keep it well within your kind."

"I ... I -"

"Do not protest so. You have proof of what I am. But I have seen with my own eyes the magic and other wondrous things you do when you believe no one is watchng. I know you are an enchanter, Mikhail. I have heard of such beings but never thought to meet one." Phaedre smiled at him. "When the next wishbringer comes, one of your line will find her. The signs will show him the way."

"Wishbringer?"

"It was Trigorin's name for me. A good a name as any." Phaedre replied.

"The wishbringer will be a woman, a witch?"

"Yes, a daughter of Gaia. She will not be born of your kind of that I am certain at least." Phaedre looked at him. "Will you do this for me, Mikhail?"

Mikhail did not answer immediately. If he accepted this charge, he knew that it would not be relinquished until the arrival of the new wishbringer. What she was asking of him required more commitment and dedication than one man could muster. _You owe her your life. Keeping her secrets safe is a small price to pay. _

Mikhail had come to the village by accident. He had been on his way to Glastonbury but was attacked by goblins on a footpath. He had fought them off but was left wounded in the struggle. He collapsed soon after. The villagers found him and brought him to Phaedre. Over the last few days as he recovered he had seen enough to know that Phaedre was what she said she was. There was no doubt of that in his mind. But could he commit to this task, a lifetime's work?

He stood up. He walked to her until he too stood by the cabinet. Inside he glimpsed objects he had never before seen: sacks of coin, large gems that pulsed as if containing a life of their own, vials full of an exotic pearly liquid, parchments with nearly microscopic script upon them and more artifacts he could not recognize but whose great antiquity was obvious. He realized that before him was a treasure trove of knowledge collected over the equivalent of several lifetimes. Mikhail was awed then humbled by the realization and the responsibility.

"I will honor your request in my lifetime, Phaedre. Through my bloodlines thereafter, your wish shall so be honored still." He grasped her hands. "This I swear to you."

  


~ * ~

  


"And that is the same tale told to Pieros by Mikhail that day so very long ago. One day the wishbringer will come and lay claim to her destiny. She will bring light and truth to our world." said the mirror. "In memory of the promise made to Phaedre, Pieros made the first charmed wishbringer using a Roman coin."

"Did Phaedre really die?"

"She disappeared the following day and nothing more was ever heard of her. Did she truly die as mortals do? No one knows."

"Mirror, what was done with Phaedre's coins and treasures? They're not here at the house are they?"

"Mikhail's son, Rhys, wanted to safeguard them permanently so he charged the goblins with their safekeeping."

"The goblins?!"

"How do you think Gringotts got its start? There is a vault somewhere, the first vault ever made, guarded by goblins sworn to protect it with their very lives. No one save Rhys and the oldest of the goblin elders know what it contains. It is a certainty though that Phaedre's coins and her other secrets are there." 

Neville sat straight up in bed sleep forgotten. "The goblins were still at war with us back then. How did Rhys secure the goblins' cooperation when all of their kind wanted rebellion? "

"Ah, you do pay some attention in history class."

"But, mirror, why the goblins? And what about Phaedre and Trigorin? What adventures did they have? What was that about eternal youth?"

"The answers to those questions are best left for another time. Goodnight, Neville."

"Wait! Why did Mikhail get attacked by the goblins in the first place? And where is the vault? Does anyone know when the next wishbringer will come?"

The mirror was silent. Neville knew that the mirror could be stubborn. It had said goodnight and that was that. He laid back and thought about all he had been told. _No wonder the goblins practically gave me an honor guard when I visited the bank. I wonder who has access to vault number one and where it is._

His thoughts turned to the wishbringer. _One hasn't been found yet but one will be. She was to be found by a wizard. That was what Phaedre had said. Not just any wizard but by a Longbottom! _Neville grew excited at the thought that perhaps he would be the finder. _Not bloody likely._ But still if the unlikely event ever happened, he knew exactly what he would wish for - his parents' recovery and the defeat of the dark lord Voldemort once and for all. 

The last male heir of Mikhail Lohngas fell fast asleep still pondering the wishbringer and the legacy he now bore. 

__

Hurry, wishbringer, hurry. We need you now more than ever.

~ * ~

A/N: Whew! One guess as to who the wishbringer will be and who will end up discovering her. First (and probably last) attempt at a story within a story within a story style, past and present- exhausting. Reviews, questions and comments, please. Enjoy! mavidian


	28. Reflections on the Eve

**  


Chapter 28

  
_  


Reflections on the Eve

  
_**

The tendrils of doubt had slowly creeped into her mind insinuating its devious way through her carefully maintained facade of confidence and security. Hermione had rarely failed and when she did she had always been able to turn failure around by throwing herself wholeheartedly into the endeavour succeeding through hard work and persistence. Unfortunately, those two traits were of no effect now. The marks of her failure were apparent in her clenched fists and tear-stained face. 

__

You need to believe in your heart more than in your mind.

Magic is a raw, primitive sense that must be felt and experienced.

Trust in the sensations you feel and the magic will flow.

Strength comes from knowing your weaknesses.

You will not know your limits until you loosen control.

Calliandra and Genevieve's words repeated over and over in her mind as she stared hard at the small mirror. She had started her training in the Old Ways today Christmas Eve. Calliandra and Mrs. Longbottom had spent three hours with her explaining all that her training would entail. Tonight she had her first exercise. She was to practice drawing on the magical energies around her and learn the sensations her body felt. Her aura would reflect the draw and the level of control she was exerting. By sustaining and controlling the draw or pull, one could accomplish magical tasks far more complex than those done with a wand. With a strong will, control could be executed with pinpoint accuracy. Hermione looked into the mirror. She could see her aura but it was indistinct. It was nothing like Calliandra's vivid aura when she had shown her the steps earlier. Hermione had the will but her faith was weak. Her need to maintain control was too great to give free reign to open trust and feeling. 

A witch or wizard raised by magical parents never questioned the state of magic. It was simply there, everywhere, all the time. It never came to their minds to doubt its very existence. But Hermione was muggle born. Such blind acceptance was not her due. Even when she had received her Hogwarts letter on her eleventh birthday, she did not believe. It took a visit from Dumbledore to make her and her parents understand what being a witch truly meant. Even after so many years at Hogwarts, in her heart of hearts she had doubted she belonged in the wizarding world. To resolve her doubts, she had pursued her studies with near pychotic zeal equating achievement with acceptance and equality. Even so the slights and insults still stung. She was muggle born and that was the one thing she could do nothing about.

The Tradition coming into her life changed all that. Her very heritage was acknowledged and even coveted. She was made welcome and accepted. She had no doubts whatsoever that she belonged with them and they to her. Now all she desired to do was make her contribution and do what was expected of her. The task was proving to be a challenge that cleverness and persistence alone could not conquer. 

It had been two frustrating, tiring hours of practice with little result. She stood up and looked outside her window. The moon was high and bright. Two hours was the limit. Her teachers would know if she exceeded it. As she prepared to take a shower her thoughts turned inward. To her mind magic was energy existing all around to be manipulated into some useful purpose. It was nothing more than a tool which she had to learn how to wield and use properly through charms, spells, hexes and the like. But she was learning that magic at its purest was more than a tool. To be used to its fullest extent the wielder had to have faith and trust in the spirit of magic not just its physical manifestations. One had to trust. One had to let go. One had to believe.

__

I know what it means to do magic. But do I believe IN magic? Do I know what it means to BE magical? Her glance fell on the worn leather book on her nightstand. _The professor believes in me. Of all people he believes in me. I wish I could believe in myself._

  


~*~

  


Nicholas Flamel gazed out the tall window in the headmaster's office to the darkened forest beyond. His hands clasped behind him. "I have seen many things in my long life - heroic deeds done by heroic men, moments of pure thought and wisdom in the midst of chaos and heartwrenching kindness in the face of malice. Good and bad, pure and evil. I have seen them in all their multitudes. But tonight I have done the hardest thing I have ever done. I told a deliberate lie in order to protect one friend and deceive another." 

"Thank you, Nicholas." Albus Dumbledore looked at his mentor and friend with shame and regret in his eyes. "It was not my place to ask but thank you."

"We have truly come to a strange pass when I am forced to lie to Filius about your physical condition. When will you reveal the truth?"

"Hopefully I never have to." 

Nicholas turned around to face him. "Albus, you chide Severus for keeping secrets but you are a past master at it."

"What would you have me reveal to them? That the weariness in my heart threatens to engulf me every day? That I am weaker than I let on? That I know I will not be able to withstand a prolonged battle with Tom past a certain stage? That the whole point of the creation of the companions was to replace my ebbing strength? That the Blessing's weakening is tied to my own deterioration?" Albus leaned back into his chair. All his defenses were down during this most honest of conversations. "I lie to give them hope. I force others to lie to maintain the illusion of that hope. I can give them little else. I can do even less."

"You must tell Filius and Cera. By not telling them you devalue their worth and disregard their strengths." 

"No. I cannot. I will not. There are enough who know the truth - Minerva, Flavius, Poppy, Severus and you." 

Flamel looked steadily at his former student. "Why will you not tell them?"

"What would they think if they knew how handicapped I was? They will stand and fight and die by my side. They will not run as they must. Others may fall with me but not them. They and whatever is left of the Tradition will hide Harry and the other children."

"So you are actually taking the advise of the Tradition elders now? That IS surprising."

"Even this old dog must learn new tricks. I was foolish to think that I could protect anyone by myself. James and Lily would still be alive today if I had allowed the Tradition to help in their protection as Severus pleaded with me to do. I will not make that mistake again." 

"The Tradition has kept our ways secure and secret for generations. They have resources I can only guess at." Nicholas looked pensive. "It amazes me that they have kept their existence a secret for so long yet have forged alliances that have lasted hundreds of years."

"Dedication and discretion bred into every generation I suspect. I pray that Tom never finds out about them."

"I would think that Riddle would think twice about such a confrontation. His past pattern is attacking the weakest members around the strongest until he can overcome the strongest through deceit or by sheer force of numbers."

"Oh, I am secure in the knowledge that Riddle would have little chance of overcoming the Tradition's combined allies. However, the Tradition is vulnerable right now. Too few in their younger ranks to succeed their elders. The last war decimated their core families."

"Hence their increased security and secrecy. Taken a look at Ollivanders lately, Albus? Flavius has employed wards I have never seen before. A sand flea encroaching on Longbottom property would set off all the alarms while assaulting Castel de Remeis would be suicidal."

"I believe those new wards are the handiwork of young Hugh." Albus laughed softly. "The creativity of the young is astounding."

"One forgets how young they are and how much time they need to grow older." Nicholas mused. "They are the real hope."

  


~*~

  


The old couple lay in bed spooned against each other. They talked in unhurried low tones. The man adjusted the worn duvet tucking it securely around them. The woman wiped a tear from her eye as she flipped through the album. Arthur and Molly Weasley carried out the same ritual every Christmas Eve. Every year they cried tears of joy at all they had been blessed with. And every year they wished the same wish - for their family to make it through another year.

"Look at Ron there. Hard to believe he's almost as tall as you now, Arthur." 

"Do you think he'll need new robes?"

"No, I'll just mend one of Percy's old ones. But he'll need new shoes as shiny as his new prefect's badge." Molly closed the album.

"I feel so proud of them all, Molly. I can't express it well. I just hope that they know how I feel. Every day at work is worth it because of them."

"Oh, Arthur. I'm sure they know."

"Well, another Christmas past." Arthur gave his wife a sweet kiss. He noticed the frown on her face. "What's on your mind?"

"I just worry about what will happen with you-know-who." Molly clasped her husband's familiar hand.

"Now, don't fret so, Molly. That's Dumbledore's job." He took the album from her hands and put it on the nightstand. "We're better prepared this time. Besides tonight is not the night for those kinds of thoughts is it?" 

"You're right, Arthur. I'm being a fusspot for nothing." Molly replied. "I never thought we would have four plus a professor at Hogwarts next term! We've done well, Mr. Weasley."

"Yes, we have, Mrs. Weasley." Arthur extinguished the light. "We have indeed."

  


~*~

  


Author's Note: A new chapter at last. The Wishbringer planning and story took a lot out of me and I had to take a break from this story for a while. I will do my best to have updates more frequently. I have no intention of abandoning this piece.

Readers and reviewers thank you for your patience and I hope you continue to enjoy.

mavidian


	29. Forgiveness Be Divine, Acceptance Be Hum...

**  


Chapter 29

  
_  


If Forgiveness Be Divine, Acceptance Be Human

  
_**

It was early morning a few days before Christmas. The light carpeting of snow crunched softly underfoot. Snowflakes rode the light winds swirling around until they found a window or glass to cling to. Shopkeepers opened up their stores up and down the long avenue. It was a less pricey neighborhood of Notting Hill but it was well-travelled and prosperous in its own way. 

Dr. Philippa Granger unlocked the door to the practice. Her husband and daughter were close behind her both carrying large boxes. 

"Today's the big day, isn't it, Philippa?" asked a wizened man sweeping the ground before a small cafe and bakery. 

"Yes, Mick, it is."

"Well, I'll have my grandson bring some fresh food in every other hour or so. Don't you fret."

"We never do, Mick. We appreciate your help as always." Philippa held the door open as her husband and daughter brought their boxes in.

"God bless you, Philippa, givin' free work for the needy during this time and all." 

"For some people this is the only dental work they get done all year." 

"Expecting the same as last year?" Mick leaned on his broomstick putting some effort into sweeping a stubborn patch of snow.

"I think a bit more, Mick. We might be here very late tonight."

"Well, then we'll just have to keep baking won't we?" Mick smiled and flashed his perfect dentures. 

Inside, Hermione rearranged the receiving room a little bit. A long row of folding chairs had been rented out. They leaned against the wall waiting to be unfolded. Having done this year in and year out for many years, it did not take Hermione very long to get the chairs exactly where they needed to be. She looked up at the clock, almost 8am. She could hear her parents readying their stations. The door chime sounded and Hermione looked up. 

A tall, matronly woman of indeterminate middle age came in shaking some snow off her boots. She saw Hermione and smiled. "Hermione! Welcome back!"

"Gwen, it so good to be back," Hermione hugged Gwen tightly. Gwen had started as an assistant at the practice since before Hermione was born. After university, she had joined the practice as an associate dentist. 

"You had better stay longer this time. I know you young people always go visiting amongst yourselves but we miss you too, you know." 

"I don't have a single visit planned so you're stuck with me."

"Good." Gwen kept an arm around Hermione's shoulder as they made their way to the offices. Gwen lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now, tell me, do you have a boyfriend at that school of yours? I've heard all about those Scotsmen and -"

"Gwen! Please!" Hermione's eyes swivelled about making sure her parents were well out of earshot. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"So what has put that spark in your eye then? You're usually right exhausted when you come for holidays. Look at you now." Gwen tilted Hermione's face to hers. "If it's not a boy, then it must be something."

"Or something," Hermione replied noncommitally. 

"Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

Hermione giggled. "None of the above. Really, it's just this ... this project I'm involved in and I -"

The door chimed again. Both Hermione and Gwen straightened expecting to greet some patients. But their efforts were not required. A blond young man of about twenty came in carrying several bags. From the scent wafting from the bags it was a good bet that it was the promised food from next door. Behind the young man, a small girl maybe about seven or eight closed the door firmly. Recognizing the young man, Hermione stepped forward a few steps and motioned towards the small table in the corner. Atop the table was a large urn of coffee and another with hot water for tea. 

"Morning, Gwen, Hermione! Pap asked me to drop this off. I think this will be a good start for everyone." The young man dropped off his bundles and stood all arms and hanging elbows grinning at Hermione. The girl stood shyly behind him.

"Clive! Mum said you were stuck at uni." Hermione hugged him lightly friend to friend.

"I was but Pap put the call out that he needed help at the bakery so here I am." 

Hermione looked at the young girl peeking out from behind Clive. "Oh, this is Mary." Hermione kneeled down making sure to make eye contact with the girl. "Hi, Mary. I missed seeing you last year. Do you remember me - Hermione? I used to babysit you when your parents were away. I used to tell you stories and play games, remember?"

The girl was small for her age and barely looked over six even though she was closer to eight than six. Her thin lips quirked into a little half smile. She skipped towards Hermione and wrapped her spindly arms around Hermione's neck. "Miny!"

"Close enough." Hermione picked Mary up in her arms. Her eyes grew wide at the too light weight. Her eyes sought out Clive for reassurance but none were forthcoming. Clive shook his head imperceptively. She put Mary down gently. "Well, you're a big girl now so you can help me, all right?"

"Sure. What should I do?"

Gwen came to the rescue. She had been poking about the bags and held some paper plates and napkins aloft. "Here, Mary. Why don't you open up these up. When someone comes by you give them a plate and a napkin. Oh, don't forget the fork!"

"That sounds like fun. It's like playing dinner party!"

"Exactly. We're going to have loads of people so we're really going to need your help, pip." Gwen brushed a stray of brown hair off Mary's forehead and tucked it once more behind her ear. As her hand brushed against the pale skin, her trained medical eyes could not miss the telltale signs of ill health - skin stretched so tight that one could almost see the very bones in her face, too pale pallor that no sun could darken and, worse, the shadow of pain in her too young eyes. Hermione discreetly wiped a tear from her eye before Mary could see anything amiss. "Clive, Mary can stay here most of the day if she likes."

"Yes, that would be best. It's beastly in the kitchens right now." 

"Well, if you three can handle things here, I'll go prepare my station." Gwen stood up and started walking back towards the back. "Hermione, some dental students will be coming by to assist today. Just show them in the back will you?"

As Mary busied herself with her assigned task, Hermione pulled Clive off to a small back room ostensibly to help her get something from a high shelf. "I thought her treatments were working." She said softly.

"That's what we thought too." Clive sighed. "The doctors found out that the cancer's spread."

"How ,.. where?"

"Lymphatic system. " Hermione held her arms open to him. Without further words Clive accepted the comfort she offered.

"There has to be something ... some treatment to try ... other kinds of chemotheraphy."

"No, no more treatments. They've all been stopped."

"What? It might be her only chance, Clive."

"When is enough, enough?" Clive pulled out of Hermione's arms and stood with his back to her. He shoved his hands in his pockets."The treatments were so painful for her. She'd cry and cry all night long. She vomited more than she ate. There were days she could barely move."

"Chemotheraphy doesn't work when its interrupted and -"

"She's just a little girl. She's not a pincushion. She's not something to try treatment after treatment on. She's my little sister, Hermione." Clive turned around and looked at her. Her arms were crossed and her expression spoke of worry mixed with obstinate disagreement. "I see you don't understand."

"You're right I don't. As long as there is a chance, that chance should be fought for, explored, exploited."

"Hermione, if she were older I would agree. But she's only eight and you saw how she is. She's not strong enough. She's given it all she has."

"You've given up then." It was not a question.

"We've given up our blind hopes that a cure is out there for her." Clive sighed deeply. He walked about the small storage room. "Mum has stopped working at the bakery to spend every moment with Mary. I've stopped university for a while to save money. Father and I have night jobs to pay for the bills. It may look like we've given up and maybe we have. But wouldn't you, in my place, rather have the time with Mary than no time at all because you were too busy looking for a cure? Sometimes you have to accept what is, what will be."

The silence stretched between them for a time. "How long?"

"The doctors say this will likely be her last Christmas."

Hermione sniffed once and then drew herself together with a deep breath. "I'll do what I can to help make this the best Christmas she's ever had. Whatever I can do."

"Thank you." Clive placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before leading the two of them out of the room. The door chime sounded again. It was the first patient of the day.

Several hours later, the waiting room was full to bursting. Children scuttled about happily in the small play area set up in one corner. The coffee and tea were flowing freely. The bread and treats were disappearing as fast as Clive could replace them. Mary, eyes shining and smile at the ready, split her time between the food table and playing with the younger children. Hermione kept a close eye on her from behind the front counter alert if Mary showed any discomfort or pain. She was making small care packages for the patients - pain killers, soft foods, vitamins, teething rings for those with youngsters, and, of course, plenty of toothpaste and toothbrushes.

Mary came up to Hermione leading a tousled haired boy of about six by the hand. "Miny, this is Jimmy. He says that St Nicholas isn't real. I keep telling him he is. Will you tell him so?"

Hermione looked first at Mary and then again at the expectant Jimmy then back to Mary again. "Well, Jimmy, there is a St Nicholas and -"

"Prove it!" said Jimmy.

"On Christmas day, you'll see your presents and then -"

"I want to see him now ... now." Jimmy pointed a fat, stubby finger at Mary. "She said you knew everything. She lied."

"I did not!" replied Mary hotly. 

"She doesn't know him!"

"She does too!"

__

All right how does one conjure St Nicholas, without violating the law for underage magic and getting expelled, hmmm? Hermione separated the two miniature combatants before either could come to blows. One look at Mary's earnest face was all it took to convince Hermione that somehow, some way she had to do something. _I am not disappointing Mary_. She felt the charms hanging heavily on a pendant around her neck. Suddenly an idea came to mind. She excused herself quickly telling her father that she would be right back. As soon as she entered the storage room she took out her pendant. 

She clutched one wishbringer coin tightly in her fist and said "The Eyrie. I need to be at the Eyrie by my desk. I wish to be at the -"

She was expecting a rushing sensation or the feeling of whirling motion one experiences when traveling by floo. She didn't expect nothing but that is exactly what she got. She opened her eyes and she was at Hogwarts by her desk in the Eyrie. There was no disorientation nor any vague feeling of physical uneasiness. She had simply appeared. She left the Eyrie at a run heading for the headmaster's office. 

By good happenstance she saw the headmaster and Professor Flitwick talking in hushed tones in one of the corridors. She changed direction and headed towards them. "Sir, professor -"

"Ms. Granger, how did you - " Dumbledore began.

Hermione waved her pendant in the air in answer. "I need your help, sir."

"What's happened? Has there been someone hurt?" Flitwick asked.

"I need a Saint Nicholas." Hermione took a few lungfuls of air before continuing. "Let me explain. Every year my parents host a free service week when free service is given out to the those who need it. Well, there's one child that doesn't believe in ... in St Nicholas and one who does. For the sake of the children, I was wondering, if one of you could come and be him. I know it sounds silly but it -"

Dumbledore laughed and winked at Flitwick. "I suppose I could do my part."

"You already have the beard, Albus. Can you use one of St Nicholas' helpers, Ms. Granger?" 

"Yes! Thank you. You don't how much this means." Hermione grinned enthusiastically at the two of them. 

"I do believe that we will enjoy this more than the children will, Ms. Granger. Oh, it has been awhile since I've done anything like this. Filius, I think we need to conjure some presents first."

"Give me a minute."

Dumbledore peered down his spectacles at Hermione. "Unless I am mistaken that wishbringer is one way, is it not?" 

"I believe so, sir."

"Very well. Let us return via the floo in my office." Dumbledore whirled about suddenly and Sir Nicholas appeared at his side. "Sir Nicholas please inform Professor McGonagall that I and Professor Flitwick will be leaving the castle briefly. We will be returning before dinner."

The ghost drifted down the corridor while the others walked quickly to the headmaster's office.

There were no delightful squeals or peals of laughter when the two figures came into the room only the chiming of the door. Instead there was silence sublime and complete. The older man stroked his long beard and tamped his crozier upon the floor impatiently. The elf beside him slung the large bulky bag over his shoulder and smiled benevolently at all.

"Well, I have indeed found the children I have been looking for," said the old man with blue eyes twinkling brightly. The children were frozen in place. "I was looking for all the children who have been good this year but I found that I have missed so many since my day. Have you all been good?"

All those below a certain age, and even some above, bobbed their heads in eager agreement. Their eyes watched as St. Nicholas made his way into the center of the room. "I was told that there were two children who wanted to meet me. Where are Mary and Jimmy?"

Mary glanced at Hermione briefly before she stood up and raised her hand. Her smile was so bright it could have lit up Picadilly Square all on its own. "Here I am. I'm Mary." 

A whimper near his feet made Dumbledore glance down at the little boy desperately trying to look small and inconspicuous. "And you, young man, must be Jimmy." Jimmy was scooped up and made to stand straight. Dumbledore extended a hand to the young boy. "See, feel my hand, it's real isn't it?"

The little boy cautiously touched his hand. A beatific smile appeared on his face. Dumbledore held out his arms and enfolded Jimmy in a quick hug. "Now, how about I tell you a story and then we'll see about presents."

A collective hue and cry of "Presents!" and "A Story!" filled the room. The children ran about the room finding places to sit down or perch themselves on. Dumbledore held his hand out towards Mary. "Come, Mary, you can sit on my lap while we read."

Professor Flitwick stood to the side of the armchair. "What story shall it be?"

Mary's quiet voice rang out before any of the others "The Night Before Christmas, please."

Flitwick turned his back and made a great show of rummaging through the large knapsack. Saying a quick spell, a book of stories appeared in his hand. After Dumbledore sat down, he handed the book to him opened on the famous poem.

Mary laid back into Dumbledore's arms a sweet smile upon her lips. Her fingers shyly touched a strand or two of his beard. 

Dumbledore rumbled. "I can assure you, my dear, that it is real."

"I knew you were real."

"And how did you know that?"

"Because Miny said so. She used to say that ... that I didn't have to see you to know you were real. But it is nice to see you, too." The words so sweetly and faithfully said was heard throughout the room. Behind Hermione, her mother gave her daughter's shoulder a squeeze. Hermione for the second time that day wiped a tear from her eye then flashed a smile at Mary.

The headmaster looked at all the children all around him. Some were sprawled on the floor, some were cosseted in their parents' arms while others simply looked happy to see him. He smiled back at all of them. Then in a strong and soothing voice reminding one of cold nights wrapped in blankets by a roaring fire, Albus Dumbledore began to read.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung ..."

  


~*~

  


Author's Note: Special thanks to Stellar Snape for encouragement and sweetevangeline for the nudge regarding a Christmas chapter. I rarely see a rounded picture of Hermione's muggle life that doesn't include a murder, torture or some other grisly event, so I've tried to incorporate a bit of what I think her normal life is like in the muggle world.

JustCantGetEnough - I sincerely hope that you finished your paper. Have passed 135,000 words so far. All in one book methinks.

Riolist - Yes, I do seem to lose readers anywhere from chapter 1 to 10. There's a lot of info and in order to build the suspense I had to be a bit vague. Judicious editing should make things sharper. Thanks for sticking with it.

Astarael - Live kill can refer to a predator species' preference to kill its own food. For ex, some species won't eat anything that isn't moving, still warm or killed in front of them.

Childofnite - It is SS/HG when all is said and done. They just have to, ah, find their way first.

Coral dragon - Mrs. Weasley is always shown in context with others like kids and the Order but nothing about her relationship with her own husband. 

Cassandra - A woman after my own heart. Not abandoned just have a rather hectic real world life right now.

Andromache - You're right about the 'Professor Snape' address. Definitely hard to make her frustration real and balanced because she is always shown to be very confident and capable, or at least that's the side that the world sees. I didn't think she was the type to get weepy and tear her hair out either.

To all reviewers and readers, thank you and please enjoy!

mavidian


	30. Lambs Come Meekly to Slaughter

**  


Chapter 30

  
_  


Lambs Come Meekly To Slaughter

  
_**

Filius Flitwick walked alongside the headmaster a block away from the Granger's office. "Albus, we are being watched." 

"I suppose it must be the scent of these heavenly tarts." Dumbledore buried his nose inside the large bag in his arms. He sniffed the contents for the third time. "Hand-baked bread, tarts and pies. I've haven't had these since my mother passed away."

"We should have changed our clothes. We're still in costume." Flitwick eyed the trailing children and parents with affection. He waved at some of the younger children.

"Let's give them a bit of a show while we look for a suitable apparition point." As he passed by a small toy store several children pressed their faces against the glass to have a better look. Dumbledore smiled and waved at them. "Very nice of Mick to provision us on our way back. I'm rather partial to the orange tarts myself."

"He said something about Scotland being a goodly far trip."

"As far as they know Ms. Granger goes to a boarding school in Scotland." Dumbledore eyed the lenght of the street. "Let's try the next block. Far too many people about now."

"I must know something, Albus." Flitwick tightened his hold on his own bag of pastries. "Did you put a spell on Mary before we left?"

"Do you believe I did?" Albus waved at a child waving madly from the open window of a passing automobile.

"Albus, I could feel that child's pain very strongly. A pain that muggle medicines have no effect on. Yet she fell into a deep, pain-free sleep after the second story. I ask again did you put a spell on her?"

"Only a small one. Something to help her mind ignore the pain." The headmaster sighed. "It was the only gift I could give her in exchange for what she gave to everyone else."

"What a sweet soul that child has." Flitwick said quietly. 

They crossed several intersections before coming to a less busy city block more drab and seedy than the ones they had passed through. So engrossed were they in their conversation and finding a bolt hole to apparate from that they failed to take notice of a stranger standing some ways off on an opposite corner reading a paper. The stranger had kept the moving pair within sight for the last two blocks.

__

Providence be my gift. He's come out of his stronghold and with one of his lackeys in tow no less. I must reward Wormtail for urging me to go on a walk today. Voldemort pulled his hat lower over his face. He followed them slowly watching for any other wizards and witches that could be about. He saw no one else. His lips formed a crooked grin. _I cannot resist so unexpected an opportunity to test my progress. Now what to do first?_

Dumbledore and Flitwick turned into a small alleyway in between two shabby buildings. They looked up and down the short streetside making sure no muggles were around. 

"This looks like a good spot." Flitwick said pulling out his wand.

"It has been a very good day, Filius." Dumbledore moved the bag to his left hand. As he retrieved his wand with his right hand, a sudden noise made him look up and back at the entrance to the alley. "Did you hear that?"

The sound came again. It was a child shouting as if in pain asking for help again and again. It came from further down in the alley.

"I don't see ... where - oh!" Flitwick felt a hard shove from behind and he stumbled a few steps forward. 

"Help! Help me please!" The voice wailed more plaintive still. 

All thoughts of apparating away fled from the two wizards' minds. As one they put their wands down and began to walk towards the voice. 

"I want to go home. Help me!" It was a girl's voice. "It's so dark here."

They quickened their steps. The alley was growing dimmer. Their wand tips began to glow brightly as they each cast a quick lighting spell. Focusing so intently on following the child's voice another sound, a repeating whirring, barely registered on their consciousness. 

"I don't want to hurt anymore." The words stopped replaced by muffled sobbing.

Flitwick saw some shadows gliding across one wall. He walked towards them. "This way, Albus."

A tall stand of corrugated boxes and other debris leaned against the wall. Between the two wizards, they managed to levitate the boxes away clearing a way towards the sobbing child. Flitwick leaned into the small aisle they created and peered in. "I see her form, Albus. I'm going to call to her."

"Come here, child, come on." Flitwick crooned. He could see the form moving. 

"Go away! The bad man is always tricking me."

"No, no child. I'll take you home to your parents. Isn't that what you want?"

Another minute of coaxing proved futile. Flitwick stood up and shook his head. "I cannot say I blame her for trusting no one but -"

"If she will not come to us, then we must come to her. Let us move the rest of these boxes, Filius." In a matter of seconds, all the boxes were cleared to the side. 

The two wizards approached the dark figure huddled against the wall. Their wands' glowing light illuminated in ever widening circles. Once they were close enough the light shone on a thin, dirty girl of eight or nine dressed in rags. She was curled in a fetal position on the ground. Her sobs were the only sounds to be heard.

"Come now," Flitwick approached the girl with his hand outstretched making no sudden gestures. As his hand touched the child's forearm, the illusion of the girl disappeared in a glitter of energy. Flitwick felt back in shock. "Merlin's ghost!"

A single glance between the two old friends confirmed their suspicion. They both said the spell to apparate but nothing happened. Flitwick cast a ward detect spell. Immediately all around them the signature signs of an anti-apparition ward made their presence plainly seen.

"Getting careless in my old age, Albus."

"I rather think it is because our enemy knows us too well." Dumbledore cast a longer lasting light spell bathing the immediate area around them in bright light. "Distracting us with the child while he built the ward right under our noses."

"I say we repay him in kind for his cleverness."

Reflexes of old came rushing back to their minds and bodies. Wordlessly with no wasted motions, they stood back to back wands drawn and ready. Their wait was not long. First came the sounds of a dozens of wings in motion. They braced inwardly for whatever came next. Their eyes scanned all around. Another sound dominated the first. It was a shrill shrieking whose intensity pierced their eardrums where they stood. Their aural membranes ripped under the sound's unceasing onslaught. Despite the pain and loss of balance, the two wizards stood their ground calling on old disciplines to numb the pain and keep their focus.

From the dark edge of the illuminated circle they came en masse, Voldemort's pets, streaking at and diving into the two wizards from every direction. There were many of them, big and small, and all sleek in form and speed. Dozens upon dozens they came. Dumbledore and Flitwick cast rapid fire spells offensive and defensive. The creatures relentlessly flew at their shields again and again. But shields could not be maintained for long. The creatures had to be dealt with. Who knew how many more would come?

They brought their shields down and attacked. Beams of light and missiles of energy erupted from their wands. The bats weaved and dodged effortlessly. Those offensive spells that hit their mark proved of little effect. The creatures were stunned only briefly. Around the circle, bats lay alive but motionless. Their eyes gleamed a malevolent reddish glow. Still more, the smaller more agile ones, flew about attacking the pair repeatedly. Their size made them hard to hit and even harder to defend against.

There were so many of them, so few of the wizards. The wizards could not hold them off for very long. Talons ripped at cloth. Teeth ripped at exposed flesh. Sharp wing edges grazed trails of blood on any surface they touched. Two large bats took hold of Flitwick and begun to lift him away. 

Dumbledore grabbed his friend's body in his arms heedless of the creatures attacking his own body. "Not going back without you!" 

The tiny professor aimed a spell at one of his attackers. "Avada Kedavra!" The spell proved fatal but at great cost. The spell drained the wizard for a while. He was already weak from his physical wounds and casting the Unforgivable taxed him more. Flitwick loosed his companion. It left his body with a loud pop and came at the second creature. 

Their collision sparked a green glow where they touched. The bat shrieked and let go of its hold. As it flew away, Flitwick could see that the glow on a small part of its body had not faded. His eyes followed the bat as it began to fly erratically. It flew up then down, hit a brick wall, flew up again before plummeting down to the ground. It writhed on the ground. Green smoke curled into the air from its skin. There on its right flank was a hole clean and neat pierced completely from front to back. The bat arched once and then grew still. Amazed at this discovery, Dumbledore let loose his own companion. The two companions darted and flitted about first getting rid of the creatures closest to their hosts before going after the other creatures. Dumbledore and Flitwick returned to attacking the creatures once again.

Above on a low rooftop, Voldemort watched the scene below. Above him more of his creatures circled the neighborhood. _The old man still has some fight in him. Not a bad show. Time for the second wave. _His first wave was composed of the seasoned hunters fruits of his earliest experimentations in animal transmutation. The second wave stemmed from his latest and more successful experiments. They were bigger, faster and smarter. Beside him he tapped Caligula on the wing and motioned him downward. Caligula spread his enormous eight meter wingspan and took to the air. The second wave followed their leader down into the alley. 

As if sensing something, Dumbledore took that moment to look up. To his horror, he saw the mass of the second wave streaking down towards him like a black tidal wave heading for shore. Dumbledore cast the most powerful shield charm. It was just in time. He could see their bared fangs already.

This second fight was more furious and intense than the first. Were the wizards younger they would have fared better. But their wounds were extreme draining them both fast while their companions were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Dumbledore called for reinforcements.

"Fawkes! Fawkes to me!" Dumbledore fell to his knees covering his eyes with bloodied forearms. His voice almost a whisper but it was heard hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts. The phoenix appeared immediately. It attempted to help its master but Dumbledore waved his hand. "Get help, Fawkes. Tell Minerva! Go! Go!"

As soon as the phoenix disappeared, Voldemort knew that time was getting short. Dumbledore had likely called for reinforcements. He clenched and unclenched his hands. His mind exulted in victory and craved more but his body was not yet strong enough for a direct confrontation. _So close!_ He removed himself from the roof appearing a few blocks away in study. _Check. Let us see what the old man makes of this move. _With a flick of his wand, he summoned his remaining pets home.

Professors McGonagall and Fawkes found the physically ravaged wizards alone and unconscious. Their companions circled them protectively. Littering the ground were dozens upon dozens of the dark creatures all dead. A minute later Mr. Ollivander as well as Professors Snape and Sinistra appeared. Sinistra kept watch while McGonagall and Ollivander used portkeys to transport the wounded back to Hogwarts. Snape examined the creatures closely. He stuffed several specimens into a bag. 

"What manner of creatures are these, Severus? They look like bats." Sinistra asked. "But I've never seen any this big or this ugly."

"They WERE bats once." Snape sighed. "I suspect that we're looking at the Dark Lord's new weapon."

"They took on the headmaster and Flitwick."

"Yes and they almost won." Ollivander remarked making his way to them. "Consider how you are going to defend against these foul creatures."

"Gods! I didn't think!" Sinistra looked wildly around her. "Extremely mobile, hard to hit and ... and ... damn we have to rethink some things now!"

"They reek of dark magic and -" Ollivander hissed and his brow furrowed in thought. The two younger wizards looked at him with concern. His eyes remained closed. "It's Minerva. She wants us back at Hogwarts! Albus is awake and calling for an emergency session right now." He chuckled. "Poppy is threatening to induce a coma if he doesn't stay in bed"

Sinistra grinned. "Some things don't change."

"No, Sinistra, everything's changed." Snape said. He gestured at the creatures. "I didn't know about these things. Didn't know they were being planned."

"You can't expect to know about everything, Severus."

"Don't you see I should have been told about this. At least some bit of information ... something." Snape kicked at a creature. "This means there's another plan ... different than what I know."

"All the more reason why we need another set of eyes and ears inside." Ollivander motioned towards the dead creatures on the ground. With a quick flick of his wand, the alleyway was clean again without a trace of blood stains or bodies. "Come. Poppy won't be held at bay much longer."

In a few seconds, the alley way was deserted. If one had sharp enough ears one could have heard a faint echo. _Why wasn't I told? What else don't I know?_


	31. A Season of Trial

**  


Chapter 31

  
_  


A Season of Trial

  
_**

Strong hands held him down. The same hands that once had helped him countless times now hindered his every move. Though his breaths came in great gasps and tremors racked his body, Dumbledore was not content to be meek. His will, strong as ever, compromised his ebbing strength. Weak as he was, Professor McGonagall easily kept him on the bed with a firm hand on his chest. Poppy finished a second litany of healing spells and charms over him. 

"No, Albus, don't fight this, please." McGonagall pressed down with a little more pressure.

"I ... Filius was almost killed today ... because of me." Albus panted. "Because I couldn't ... nothing left and -"

"But he wasn't, Albus." Minerva ran a hand across his brow lowering her voice to soothe him. "You're both going to be fine. You need to calm down. Your injuries are severe. We can talk about this tomorrow."

Her words might as well have been said to an empty room. Dumbledore began to twist and turn. He wailed with a raspy voice. "No tomorrows ... no more time. Meeting ... must ready ... now. So strong ... so fast." 

"Keep him still, Minerva! His injuries will open again if he keeps this up." Poppy cried out. With a flick of her wand, tight bands appeared and wrapped themselves around and over Dumbledore's legs holding him fast to the bed. 

Minerva placed both hands on his shoulders and pressed down with added force. Her face paled betraying her shock. Underneath her hands she could no longer feel his vital strength. Always before she had touched his shoulder for comfort. Always before she received reassurance from his solid form and vigorous resolve. But now his flesh was limp and pliable. She felt no taut muscles pushing against her fingers only bones under the too soft flesh. She looked into his eyes and immediately regretted doing so for his eyes were glassy with fear gone unchecked. His face was ashen and aged a hundredfold. For the first time in her life, Minerva McGonagall felt pity. Her admired friend was a shell of his former self. _How could he be reduced to this? Sweet, strong Albus. We have been so blind and selfish._

Suddenly Dumbledore grabbed hold of Minerva's wrist. His hold would later leave bruises. "Tom was there. Came so very close, he did." His hold slackened. He let out a long rattling breath and seemed to sink further into the bed. "Minerva, did I do right by Filius?"

McGonagall cupped his face. "You did exactly the right thing, Albus. Rest now please."

"Things to do ... must tell -" Albus clenched and opened his fist repeatedly.

Minerva took one of his hands in hers. She looked into Poppy's stricken eyes. "Do it, Poppy."

"He'll be -"

"I know. I know. Do it." Minerva spied Ollivander and Snape entering the ward. "Quickly!"

Poppy heard the approaching men but did not hesitate. She drew her wand and said "En Psyche Susto Divigore!" A red glow erupted from her wand tip and floated over the headmaster's prone figure. 

Dumbledore's eyes grew wide fully aware of what action the women had agreed to. He shook his head from left to right violently trying to deny their decision. As the glow creeped upwards past his waist he looked Minerva in the eye. His voice was harsh. "I forbid this, Minerva."

"I know and I'm sorry, Albus." McGonagall said softly. She squeezed his hand as the red glow reached his cheeks then wrapped about his head completely. "You will never know how sorry."

Ollivander and Snape looked on helplessly as the eerie glow engulfed the headmaster fully. It was too late. His frantic motions ceased. His fists unclenched. His eyes closed. His chest fell once. His companion emerged from his body and hovered uncertainly about his chest.

"Why have you done this?!" Snape shouted. His hands were balled into fists at his side. "Why?!"

McGonagall stood up and faced them all. "He was beyond his limits, Severus."

Poppy breathed in deeply before saying, "He will now get the rest of mind and body that he desperately needs."

Discreetly, Mr. Ollivandor waved his hand and cast a Circle of Anomi. He had a feeling the course of this conversation would not be pleasant.

Snape railed on. "You should have consulted us first! Couldn't you wait?!" 

"After he regained consciousness, he seemed to be lucid but the trauma and blood loss was too great." Poppy explained. Her own anxieties made her bold. "Would you rather have waited and seen him descend into dementia as his systems degraded further? That would have been quite a show!" 

Ollivander moved to a small table where sat an ever full pitcher of water and some glasses. As he poured water into two glasses, his mind whispered to Minerva across their bond. _Are you all right?_ Hers whispered back. _I will be._ Ollivander looked at Snape. He fully understood the younger man's anger. He also knew that misdirected anger would prove more harm than good. "Poppy and Minerva have full discretion on this matter, Severus, as their positions befit. No one else was needed."

"If this is how you make an exit for a friend, refrain from doing me any favors unasked." Snape walked closer to the side of the bed.

Ollivander finished pouring. "An exit's value is what you make of it in the end not where it leads to at the beginning."

"Do you know what you've done?" He touched Dumbledore's head gently, almost reverently. "Do you have any idea?'

"This is what we should have done long ago." Poppy gratefully took one of the glasses Ollivander proffered to her and Minerva. "I knew, we all knew, how weak Albus was ... the show he was putting on for everyone. I failed him by not insisting he rest, do less, delegate more. I should have intervened when he was scheduled for tree duty. The man was already maintaining the Blessing with a third of his own energies. Oh, I know exactly what I have done, Severus, and I am glad of it."

"You've gone too far forcing him into a state of physical stasis like this." Snape looked from the still headmaster to the composed deputy headmistress. "I heard him. He forbade you to do it."

"He did and I denied him that choice." Minerva answered back briskly. She took a sip of water. "Let the consequences rest on me."

Ollivander looked down on Albus. "He was so very tired. A rest will return him to his old vigor and power."

Snape paced in front of the bed. "It may be weeks before the charm allows him to wake. What do we do in the meantime? Tell everyone he's gone on vacation, destination unknown? It will make all the headlines."

"No, it won't." Minerva looked at all of them in turn. Her lips quirked into a mischievous grin.

"No?" asked Snape. Poppy regarded her old friend with shrewd eyes.

Ollivander caught the mental flash of Minerva's inner amusement. "The game you are contemplating is -"

"Is necessary." Minerva interrupted. She put her glass down and crossed her arms. "Who better than I?"

"Nothing I say will sway you I suppose." Ollivander touched her lips with his finger. They looked at each other in silence for a time communicating only with their eyes and minds. "You were always a better player than an observer."

"Why should you have all the fun?" Minerva said saucily. Her gaze traveled to Snape. It was clear that he would explode unless an explanation was given and soon. "Albus won't be going anywhere. He will be attending to his duties as normal."

"How? The psyche charm cannot be interrupted once cast. Casually breaking the charm could kill him." Snape ceased his pacing and sat on the edge of the bed as if unwilling to lose sight of the aged wizard. "Are you proposing we turn him on and off somehow?"

"I am surprised at you, Severus, potions master that you are, that you haven't already guessed." Minerva's expression was resolute. "I'll be using up most of your stores of polyjuice starting tomorrow. You'll need to get your hands on more, discreetly of course, while you brew another batch here."

Snape swallowed his surprise. "Polyjuice is a banned substance for animagi. Not quite a sentence to Azkaban but illegal nonetheless." 

"I am well aware of the ban and its reasons. I choose the risks."

Severus nodded. "What do we tell the others? It's almost time for dinner. They will expect to hear some news."

"We will not be telling anyone anything. Think of the effect on morale on both sides if the truth about Albus is disclosed." Poppy shared an infinitesmal nod with Minerva. From the corner of her eye, she saw Snape's astonished look and smiled. "Severus, why do you continue to labor under the misconception that guile is uniquely singular to Slytherin house?"

"The less people who know about Minerva masquerading as Albus the better." Ollivander remarked. "We will keep this matter within the four of us and Nicholas."

"And we will exercise the utmost control over this situation at all times." Minerva unfolded a blanket over Albus and lovingly tucked it around him making sure his beard stayed above the blanket. "There cannot be any changes to any of our plans and strategies. We will carry on."

"But all the House heads should be infor-" Snape began.

"This matter is not open to a vote, Severus." She rose and faced the potions master. "I shall make it plain for you. As deputy headmistress I am ordering you to hold your tongue and keep your head. You may follow that order with ill grace or resign immediately."

Ollivander winked at Snape. "Severus, my boy, one thing you need to know about Albus. He has a decided preference for strong, decisive, clever women and often succumbs to the temptation of surrounding himself with them. Such women will continually surprise you. Best get used to it now."

Poppy and Minerva laughed out loud. Ollivander joined them while Snape could only shake his head. After a quick discussion, the circle was dissolved. They scattered to carry out various tasks. Only Madam Pomfrey stayed to keep erstwhile visitors away from Albus' bedside and watch over Flitwick's recovery. Minerva hurried to Albus' office to begin her own study of his activities in preparation for the next few weeks. Ollivander went off in search of Nicholas.

Snape transported Albus into the Room of Counsel and placed Dumbledore in his former isolation room in the dungeons. There the headmaster would be snug enough left to convalesce in undisturbed secrecy. 

Snape addressed Dumbledore's companion. "I know you can understand me. Guard him well or you will answer to me. Remember, I created you and I can and will deal with failure appropriately." Snape closed and warded the door. He made his way back to his private stores to check on his supply of polyjuice potion. He would not be sleeping tonight. He would begin brewing a new batch tonight. McGonagall would need all he could make.

Due to its all encompassing nature and the unpredictability of recovery, the psyche charm was invoked only for the direst of circumstances but its results were well proven. As the patient healed, the power of the charm would fade until eventually the patient attained a full recovery and awoke. Albus Dumbledore would return in vigorous good health with his powers renewed. The only question was when.

  


~*~

  


Flamel and Ollivander entered the headmaster's office shortly after dinner. As they approached, they could see Minerva wading through stacks of parchments behind Albus' desk. "She was truest to them in the season of trial, as all the quietly loyal and good will always be. Dickens surely had you in mind, Minerva."

Minerva smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Nicholas. I shall keep that quote in mind when I am on the verge of losing my patience."

"How goes the preparations?"

"The most pressing will be a meeting at the Ministry the day after tomorrow with the appropriations board to discuss next year's budget and curriculum. I will do my best to get out of it before my time limit is up."

"Is Genevieve Longbottom on that board?" Ollivander asked.

"I believe so, Flavius."

"May I suggest we clue her in on what's happening. Besides, I will feel more secure knowing that there is someone there watching your back."

"So would I. If anyone can manage interference for me, she can. Can you let her know discreetly?"

"I believe I have an open invitation for dinner at the Longbottoms that I have long ignored. I will contact Madam Longbottom and let her know that I am available tomorrow night."

"Minerva, have you addressed the matter of your own work?" Flamel ventured.

"I have considered some alternatives but have made no decisions yet. I welcome any advice or help you may have."

"I propose the following. Make my presence here known to the staff now. When the students return, allow me to be a guest teacher of, say, Transfiguration. Between myself, your graduate assistant and Ms. Granger, you will not have to concern yourself with daily classes. I would also like to substitute for Filius now and again."

"Brilliant!" Ollivander exclaimed. "The press will focus on you and not on Albus."

"Deflecting the enemy's attention has historically proven a wise tactic in the short term."

"I accept your generous offer, Professor Flamel. Be prepared to be introduced by the headmaster at breakfast." Minerva beamed. "What about your work with Demos and the new stone?"

"Calliandra has taken on more and more of the study of Demos of late. I suppose she sees him as another son in a way. As for the stone, we are not scheduled to fully start that for another month." Flamel said. "It will not be easy for you, Minerva. One minute as Minerva and the next as Albus. I wonder how you will manage."

  


~*~

  


The fire cast a reddish glow over Minerva's features. It was past midnight and sleep eluded her still. She held her tartan blanket close and gazed unblinking into the fire. Her thoughts so occupied her that she did not take notice of Ollivander until he kneeled in front of her chair.

"What heavy weight pulls your mind away from sleep, Minerva."

"Not what, Flavius. Who?" She ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "Dickens."

"Any one in particular?"

"It was the best of times, it was the worse of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness."

"Better that than the 'It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done' and so forth bit." Ollivander took both of her hands in his. Under the cuffs of her robe, he could see the black and blue bruise on one wrist. It was a sobering reminder of the day's events. "The night always brings out the fears and doubts in any of us. The sun will chase them away."

"I can't make any mistakes ... with anyone. The act must be flawless." Minerva bit her lip. "This must be how Severus feels before his meetings. I don't know whether to admire him or declare him to be the biggest of fools to willingly subject himself to this self examination again and again. The fear suffocates me, Flavius. Doubt gnaws upon my every nerve."

"You don't have to do this. We can find another way."

"Albus and I discussed several theoretical contingencies. This scenario was one of them. I thought I was prepared." Minerva looked down on her hands. "Faced with tomorrow, I have wished a dozen times this night that I were a simple teacher and nothing more."

"You are so many things but most of all you are strong. Albus has faith in that strength and so must you." Ollivander entwined his fingers with hers and claimed her hand with a kiss. "I am here for you. You need only say how I may help."

Minerva sighed. "Hold me. Make me forget for a while. Remind me again that I am a woman, too."

Ollivander rose and pulled her up to stand beside him. They left the hearth fire to ebb on its own while they dealt with their fears in their own private way. The sun would rise soon enough.

In later years, it would be said that on this day did the season of trial begin.

  


~*~

  


Thoughts? Reactions? Need more drama, layers, twists, literary references? Thank you to all reviewers. Your comments motivate me to always do better and I feel make me a better writer. This story would not be where it is without you.

Enjoy!

mavidian


	32. The Promise of New Beginnings

**  


Chapter 32

The Promise of New Beginnings

**

The coffeemaker rumbled. Eggs sizzled on the pan. Mr. Granger finished setting up the breakfast table as his wife was placing a plate of toast on the table.

"David, she's trying so hard. Perhaps, we should talk with Genevieve and tell her to, I don't know, ease up on her."

"You know as well as I do that no one puts more pressure on Hermione than Hermione herself." Mr. Granger took his seat.

"You didn't see her last night."

"I know that she's been practicing every night. That glow under the door is hard to miss."

Mrs. Granger gripped the seatback of one of the chairs. "I wouldn't call last night practicing, David. It was .... was like she was in a marathon that she couldn't bear to lose, couldn't lose."

"Hermione does get obsessive about her studies. Remember, when she was eight and got interested in astronomy, the nights she spent camping outside."

"She's desperate this time. I could see it in her eyes."

"She's come across something that's going to take her some effort to overcome. It's a first for her."

"And if I hadn't come into her room when I did, we would have found her sprawled on the floor this morning. Out cold probably. What a lovely first time that would have been!"

David reached for hand and gave it a squeeze. "Hermione asked to be given the opportunity to try this. We have to give her this chance."

"It seems to me we're giving too much." Philippa wiped a tear from her eyes. "What's going to happen after she's given her all and it's not enough? What's left to her?"

"If the wizarding world doesn't want her, fine. It's their loss. We'll take our girl home. But first we have to have faith that things will work out."

Philippa sniffed loudly. "Well, I'm going to make sure she enjoys her last few days here if it kills me. She is going to relax and ... and be normal."

Hermione walked in at that moment fully dressed for the day. She sat between her parents and promptly began to fill her plate.

Mrs. Granger kissed her daughter's forehead before taking her own seat. "Good morning, darling."

"So what's this I hear about you in near collapse last night?"

"I exceeded my practice time when I shouldn't have. Mum was right to put me to bed." Hermione flashed her mother a quick smile.

"You push yourself too hard, love."

"No one gives you anything. Isn't that what you've always told me, mum?"

"I also said that one should enjoy what one reaps."

"Yes. mum."

Mrs. Granger poured tea for himself. "Speaking of enjoyment, don't forget we're going shopping later this morning."

"We'll need to be back by three. Clive's taking me to the hospital to see Mary."

The battered mini slid and swerved its way through the streets. A light snow fall had made the road a tad icy. Inside, Hermione gripped her handrest firmly while Clive drove beside her. Mary had asked to see her and Clive was driving her to the hospital. Despite the circumstance, Hermione felt comfortable even peaceful. In Clive's company she wasn't a witch, a mudblood or Harry Potter's best friend, she was just Hermione. The hospital wasn't far but the road conditions forced them to go slow. To fill the time, they talked like old friends for whom the intervening months hadn't really happened.

Hermione looked out the window. "I'm afraid of turning into someone that I might not like very much."

"Then don't let it happen."

"It's not that simple." Hermione was silent choosing her words carefully. "Have I changed, Clive, since I started going to my school?"

Clive stopped to a halt at the stoplight. He turned to face her. He placed his hand over her head as if he were granting her some benediction. "You're a mite taller, your hair is bushier. What are you now, sixteen going on thirty, forty?"

Hermione laughed at his remark. "Come on, tell me, seriously, have I changed?"

"You've grown up."

"That is inevitable. Everyone does, well, maybe save for you."

"No, no, Hermione, that WAS my answer." Clive chuckled and then shifted the car into gear. "You want to know what I see? I'll tell you but you may not like it."

Hermione raised her chin and took a calming breath. "Do your worse. I'm braced."

Clive hazarded a quick glance at Hermione before saying his piece. "I don't know if that school has done you any good at all."

"How could you say that? I've learned so much and - "

"Of course you have, that's in your nature. But, be honest, haven't you turned yourself inside out to fit in there?" Clive turned into HIgh Street. "You've always been a brilliant student but, gods, I remember the summer before your first year when we hardly saw you. Your parents said you were revising. Really, revising before the term, that's unhealthy."

"It's a very competitive school." Hermione sputtered. "I had to be prepared, more than prepared, going in. If I was a total idiot, I would have stood out . more besides being a ...a ... well, I would have stood out."

"So, you're saying it was your way of rising to the challenge."

"Exactly!"

"And what would you say if I said that you've gotten more noticeably willful and stubborn the last year or two."

"I have not!"

"Your parents are great, but I have to say you've been indulged and gotten more independence that I did when I was your age. I would never have gotten packed off at the tender age of eleven." Clive smoothly avoided a gaping pothole.

Hermione gripped her hand rest a little tighter as the small car leaned and swerved. "It's not like they forced me to go. It was an honor to be asked and I can't think of any other place better for me. It was my decision to go there."

"Yeah, and you probably get into much mischief and such when you're there."

"It's not like I start anything. Not really. Besides, mum and dad have already gotten letters about my ... my adventures. I've been honest with them, as much as I can."

"What do they say about your, ah, adventures?"

"They trust me to be responsible and do what's right. I'm not going to do anything to endanger that trust."

Clive stopped at another stoplight and grinned at her. "Miss Granger, I believe congratulations are in order."

"What?"

"You have passed over the threshold of life into young adulthood. Please take my congratulations in the spirit they are intended."

"Clive, you're being silly again."

"Hermione, the mark of young adulthood is taking the reins of your life's purpose and direction away from your parents and handling them yourself for good or ill. Don't you realize that you've already changed, grown up?" Clive changed gears and proceeded past the light.

Hermione sat in silence digesting this observation. Life changing revelations are supposed to happen after deep thought and consideration. Such thoughts did not occur in a gray, cramped aging mini determinedly making its way through a wintry streetscape in London.

Clive continued on. "The question shouldn't be have you changed but do you like the person you've changed into?"

There was no answer forthcoming. Clive didn't prod futher. He simply waited for her to answer.

"Yes and no." Hermione took a deep breath. "I like what I am now and the things that are different."

"Well, that's good. Studies show that the personality one develops from the late teen years to the mid twenties is quite close to the personality one would likely have for the rest of one's life."

"How comforting."

"That's another thing sarcasm mixed with wit. Defintely a sign of maturation, at least in my mind." Clive turned right and the hospital was in sight. "Neither of your parents have the gift of it. Somehow you've developed an inclination for it."

"I've been around someone who is a past master at it." Hermione grinned.

"He must be a good teacher to be able to impart and communicate the suble art of sarcasm and what?!" Hermione began to laugh and tears appeared in her eyes. "I didn't think I was being that funny."

"No, not ... not you." Hermione said in between gasp trying to control herself again. "It's one of those you had to be there kinds of things. Forgive me please?"

"As long as I'm not being insulted."

"You may take it as the highest of compliments." Hermione replied. She spied the sign pointing to the visitor's parking area. "There. Go left."

"Maturity has only made your bossiness more pronounced." Clive turned left.

"My mum is the same way. You can't change something developed in the womb."

"Have you thought of developing some tact?"

"I tried. It did not agree with me. I've thought to try learning the science of gentle manipulation instead."

As they made their way to the hospital, Clive broached the other topic so far left undiscussed. " You know I didn't mean that bit about your school. I ought to mention, too, that I like this new Hermione. She's a bit unpolished and indelicate at times but there's good material there. I don't think you could change where I couldn't like you."

"What if I was horridly superior, biased, cold, narrow-minded and thoughtless? Not caring about anyone or anything save for what I wanted or needed. Would you like me then?"

"Moot question. You'd never become like that."

"But what if I did? Look how much I've changed and I didn't even notice until you pointed it out to me." Hermione slowed her pace. "People will turn away from me maybe hate me and I won't see it coming."

Clive shook his head. "I don't understand where this anxiety is coming from. There's always been a touch of certainty about the way you like to go and be. Why the sudden floundering?"

"My life is changing, Clive. I feel like I'm in front of a great door. With great effort, the door is opening little by little. I want to open the door so badly and my progress is so slow. Why is it so slow? Is it because it's not meant to be or am I doing something wrong?"

"Going to university is a big step, only a few years away. I can see how that could unsettle even one like you." Clive spoke gently. "Meant to be, eh? That's the first time I've ever heard you say anything so metaphysical."

"As you say, I've changed. I've learned that things aren't always what they seem, black or white, up or down. Sometimes one has to believe in something fantastical because it could happen."

They neared a bench and Clive motioned for them to sit down. "Let's take this in steps shall we. How much do you want to open this door?"

"With every fiber of my being."

"Do you think you can do it?"

"Yes, but -"

"No buts. Do you believe in your heart that you can do it?"

"Yes."

"Do you need to do this?"

Hermione paused before answering. "Yes."

"Why do you need it?"

"Because ... because I'm the one who can. I feel like it's the right thing to do. You've always advised me to follow my instincts."

"You're suffering from a classic overachiever neurosis - fear of your own success."

"You have got to be kidding."

"Hermione, you had more than your share of success and a few failures here and there to keep you balanced. Success doesn't put you off. You are afraid of what your success will bring. Oh, not the changes themselves in you and your life, but you're not sure you can handle it. Am I right?"

"I might make the wrong decisions out of ignorance or misinformation. If anyone gets hurt, it should be me not ... not anyone else. I've been incredibly lucky to not have gotten killed yet."

"That school must be fascinating."

"It teaches a lot of .. of life lessons." Hermione was thoughtful. "Hypothetically speaking, what if I were to turn my back on my life here - my family, Gwen, you, everyone and everything."

"You mean when you successfully scale the heights of academia, become a famous scholar, celebrated scientist or whatever and forget about us little people in your past?"

"Something like that. I want to do what's right but I'm afraid of losing what I have."

"Things do not get lost on their own. We have to toss them out and allow them to be forgotten and lost." Clive said. "My advice to you is this - take what comes because things happen for a reason, cast out your fear and welcome change, and, lastly, decide what is truly important to you and keep them by your side always. Why obsess? Whatever you do, whatever mistakes you make, the world isn't going to stop turning, will it?"

"You're going to make a fabulous psychiatrist someday." Hermione hugged Clive hard.

"I can just picture it. My own consulting booth at the bakery."

"You haven't heard about the scholarship yet I take it."

"Not yet. At least I made the cut of the final five. That's something."

"My parents' offer stands."

"No, no. I will get my own couch someday but it will be on my terms." They both stood up. "Come on, Mary should be awake now."

"Is she on a lot of medication?" Hermione straightened her hair as best she could.

"Ever since that day in the office, she says she feels no pain at all. Just feels tired all the time."

Hermione's eyes brightened. "Really?"

"The doctors can't account for it." Clive smiled. "I guess there are still some things beyond the ken of science."

Later that evening, Hermione knelt in front of the floor mirror in her room. She waited for the clock to strike to eleven. She was allowed two hours to practice and she was not going to exhaust herself anymore. _What good would I be to anyone then? All right, Clive, let's see if I've learned anything from your advice. _The clock began to sound the hour. Hermione closed her eyes.

I am here. One. Two. Three. Hermione schooled her thoughts to calmness. As Calliandra had taught her, she visualized the lake at Hogwarts at its most placid under the summer moon.

Now , always. I belong. Four. She deepened her breathing.

I have no fear. Five. Six. Her arms hung loose by her side following the rest of her body in relaxation.

Let what is, be. Seven. Eight. Nine. Hermione found her inner sense and began to bring it forth. Her aura began to shimmer around her.

Ten. Eleven. _I accept whatever will be._

The shimmer coalesced around her form sending tingles along her skin. Hermione opened her eyes and wondered at the sight in the mirror. Around her a rainbow of colors undulated and danced. Her aura did not ebb or fade. Laughter, wild joyful laughter rose from her belly to her throat unchecked. Hermione hugged herself feeling a new warmth invading her body from her fingers inward. Small sparks of light danced around her. So fascinated was she by her image that she didn't notice the growing hum from the vibrating walls or floors. Neither did she notice her parents standing in her doorway; one wiping tears of relief from eyes and the other practically aglow with pride.

All across Britain, wizards and witches of the Tradition looked up from their tasks or gasped in their sleep. They had all felt it. The undercurrents of ancient magic pulsed with a vitality only experienced at the birth of a powerful wizard or witch. Many wondered whom to send their congratulations to the next morning. And some sighed in gratitude that despite the turmoil of their world, there was still somewhere the promise of a new life.

In a room where a young wizard lay in slumber, there was another who felt the sudden surge of power and knew another, older interpretation. The mirror glowed brighter and brighter until the darkness of the room had been banished.

The young wizard awoke and rubbed his eyes. "What's going on? Is it morning already?"

"Wake up! You must awake!" The mirror repeated.

"What? What are you going on about?" Neville squinted at the clock by his bed. "It's nearly midnight!"

Neville shielded his eyes. The light from the mirror was nearly blinding. The voice grew stronger and firmer. "The Wishbringer, Neville. She's come."

The words sank in slowly. The mirror kept repeating its words. Neville looked at the clock, the mirror and back to the clock. "What do I do? Tell me, what am I supposed to do?!"

"Find her. You must find her." The mirror replied. It's light began to fade and the room returned to its original dimness. "Only you can find her. Only you."

Neville's heart hammered in his chest. In his haste to get out of bed, his legs tangled with the sheets. He kicked at his bedclothes and promptly fell out of bed. "Where ... where is she? Who is she?"

Neville rose from the floor and hastily tossed his blankets from the bed. Neville lit a candle. There was a knock on his door.

It was his grandmother. "Neville, are you all right? You're supposed to be sleeping. Are you studying again?"

Neville began excitedly "Gran, you won't believe it -"

"Hush now! You cannot reveal what you know. You cannot until you find her." said the mirror.

"But, I may need Gran's help."

"This is your quest and no other. The rules are very specific on that point."

"Neville, open this door this instant. I can hear that mirror whispering in there. Is she keeping you awake?"

"Hag." said the mirror.

Neville breathed deeply, straightened his nightshirt and opened the door. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, Gran. I had a bad dream and fell out of bed."

His grandmother smoothed his hair. "You always have bad dream for a few nights after visiting the hospital."

"Yes. That's right. I'm fine now, Gran. Have a good night." Neville closed his door and leaned on it trying to calm his racing heart.

He walked towards the mirror and asked. "Where is she? Who is she?"

"Here. Now. You must find her soon." the mirror insisted.

"But where, where do I start? Do you have a name, a face."

"The knowing sense was strong, only an instant, but overwhelming It came from the city."

Neville's brow furrowed in thought. "London is enormous. What else do you have?"

"The power was intense. Not one from a newborn." The mirror's voice was low, reverent. "There was such pure joy, wonder."

"All right. Stay calm and think. Think, Neville, what ... what would Professor Snape advise in this situation." Neville went to his desk and quickly got quill and parchment. "Write down all known facts on the matter. Yes, that's the first thing to do. Know what you have."

Neville scribbled madly for a time. He looked at his list. It was disappointingly brief. _Time almost midnight. Somewhere in London. Adult female. Must be a witch._

"Will there be some sign, mirror? Can I use something to detect her presence? Would you know her?"

"I cannot identify her only sense her awakening but a Longbottom will know."

"That's it?! No spell or charm or -"

"You will find her somehow."

"Will it be sometime in this century?"

"The sooner you start, the sooner you will find her."

Neville looked at the calendar. "I don't have much time. I go back to school in two days."

"What can be done in two days?" Neville paced the floor. "Two. Two. Wait, I don't have to find her in two days but I can become familiar of the area. Rule two of covert operations, know your operating environment, the lay of the land. I'll explore London starting tomorrow."

"Your grandmother will object. For once, I agree with her." The mirror pointed out. "You know little of muggle ways. What if something happens to you beyond reach of our assistance?"

"You're right. I don't know much about muggles but I know someone who does. AND she lives in London." Neville clapped his hand in glee. "I'll ask Hermione to teach me how to get around the city, use the transports, muggle money and such."

"You may not share this with her."

"I won't, mirror. She'll think I've lost my head anyway." Neville replied. "Once I know my way, I'll look for her every holiday, every break and I will find her. Everyone has a destiny and this is mine. I will find her. I will."

It is said that Gringotts uses dragons to guard its valuable vaults. That is true, very true indeed. But what is not revealed is what guards Gringotts' most valuable and secret vault. This night the guard of vault number one was restless. Its tail lashed to and fro while it fixed its blue eyes upon the trembling goblin before it. Dragons could be tamed, even bribed to be cooperative but a manticore, well, there were several reasons why it was the guard of the first vault - the body of a giant, powerful red lion, the face of a human, the tail of a scorpion and a devious bent to asking riddles of its chosen prey. It was the best of guard - physically imposing, willfully implacable as well as resourceful and intelligent.

The manticore had begun to roar for attention around midnight. It's roar, like mighty trumpets, reverberated through the cavernous depths of the bank. Dragons and the other fearsome monsters grew agitated at the furious sound. A goblin was dispatched to the see to the manticore at once. After a half hour the goblin returned and informed its superiors of the manticore's plight. After the messenger finished his recitation, silence fell over the gathered bank directors, wizened elders of the goblin families.

The elders looked at each other in consternation. Agitated murmurs filled the air. _What should we do now? When will she arrive to make her claim? How will we know who she is? What is expected of us?_

The oldest of the elders raised his hand and all became silent. His voice cracked with great age. "This is a wondrous time. A time I never hoped to see. Before us is the opportunity to pay our debt to she who gave our kind peace when man trod upon the heels of our destruction; prosperity when all shunned our kind so long ago. Spread the tidings to all the goblin holds in Brittania. The Wishbringer is here and we must make her welcome."

A less wizened goblin ventured to ask. "First Elder, how will we know her?"

"The Guardian will find her and bring her here so it has been foretold, so it will be. We shall wait for that glorious day."

"When will the day come, First Elder? Are we to hold special preparations in constant readiness for an unknown time?"

The elder sighed. "You, young Griphook, need learn patience. All you youngers impose your schedules and priorities so rigidly."

Griphook replied. "First Elder, there are many things to plan and -"

"Griphook, the plan has been in existence for centuries. It will keep a while longer."

The young goblin looked around him. The ones of his age and generation nodded their heads in agreement. The other, the elders, shook their heads in disapproval. "But, elder, this is a .... a monumental event. Do we not wish to show her our gratitude in the best way possible?"

The elders conferred amongst themselves. Many shot penetrating stares at Griphook. Finally the elders finished their conference. The First Elder began to speak. "Griphook is correct. We must assure that our gratitude is properly expressed."

Goblins did not preen but they were allowed to feel pride. Griphook lifted his chin a little higher at the compliment.

The First Elder continued. "As such, we feel that the preparations can and must be charged to our most qualified kin. Griphook, you are in charge of all preparations."

Griphook was stunned. He could only bow to indicate his acceptance of the charge.

"The first task in the instructions left by Rhys Longhas is to inform the Guardian of this event. Tomorrow, you will do this."

"I will do so, First Elder, then upon my return I will -"

"Return, Griphook?" The First Elder shook his head. "The second task in the plan is that the Guardian may avail of our assistance once the notification has been fulfilled. You, Griphook, will be that assistance. You are hereby relieved of your normal bank duties so that you may fulfill this new charge."

"L- Leave the bank?" Griphook squeaked out.

The Second Elder replied. "How else will you assist the Guardian if not in man's world. Do not worry, you shall be well provisioned and disguised."

"The world is not as hostile as it was in my day, young one. Think of it as an adventure." said the First Elder with some finality.

The assembly dispersed chattering amongst themselves. Griphook was the last to leave. He surveyed the assembly room and said. "Yes, yes, an adventure. It will be that."

****


	33. Portents and Possibilities

**  


Chapter 33

  
  


Portents and Possibilities

**

The centaur Firenze gazed at the midnight sky. The Dark Forest seethed with sudden life. Disturbed animals rustled about. Magical plants glowed whether they were supposed to or not. Like the other magical creatures of the forest, the centaurs were restless but did not know why. The centaurs scattered scouring the forest looking for any anomaly but found none. Firenze stood by the lake and spoke with the merpeople there. They knew nothing.

Firenze turned and thundered back to his herd. He knew that nothing would be found. This was magic of the most ancient kind. Such made its presence felt but rarely did it make itself manifest to the creatures of the earth, sea and sky. He wondered. "A great portent has come. What fruit shall it bear and when?"

In the headmaster's office, the portraits yelled and shouted amongst themselves. Instruments scattered about the room whirred, clanged and sparked. Something was happening but what that was, no one really knew.

"The castle is humming," Dilys Derwent said. "I cannot recall anything that would account for this. Phineas, do you know anything about this?"

"How many times do I have to say no!" said the Slytherin crossly.

"Whatever it is, it is affecting the entire castle." Armando Dippet observed from his portrait.

"Where is the headmaster?!" Phineas Nigellus inquired. He sat in his frame looking far from his usual poised self.

At that very moment, the headmaster of Hogwarts stepped through the office door. His eyes quickly scanned the room and took in the situation. He strode to his desk and sat down. It seemed that as soon as he had sat down, the tumult subsided. A clock on the desk showed half past midnight. Cautiously, the headmaster looked around waiting for the shaking to resume. But all was calm again. The portraits began shouting questions at him.

__

What is happening? Has someone been doing experiments again? Why were we not advised ahead of time?

The headmaster motioned for silence. "The ghosts have reported no anomalies that they can detect. The house elves have said the same thing. Whatever it is ... was ... seemed to be external to the school. Hagrid did say that the forest creatures were restless but that's all. Do any of you have anything to add? What did you experience?"

"Albus, by virtue of what we are, we are more attuned to the castle than the ghosts or the elves. It was some kind of force, palpable, hard like a sharp wind sweeping across the entire castle."

"It felt like I was being enfolded, smothered." Dilys added. "I cannot explain it."

"I heard giggling, laughter." said Phineas. The other portraits looked at him in disbelief. "I have not lost my faculties. I did hear laughter - a woman's voice."

That last statement was met with a few more silent stares. Phineas Nigellus stared right back. The headmaster was about to say something when a movement high up on one of the shelves housing Hogwarts' more ancient artifacts caught his eye. It was a simple instrument - a disk hung suspended over four concentric circles. The instrument had lost the patina of age. It's brass fittings glowed anew. The golden disk shined like a freshly minted coin reflecting the light as it swiftly rotated on an edge first in one direction then another. It was moving far quicker than it had in recent months. The headmaster stood and approached the instrument. He removed it from its shelf and carried it carefully back to his desk. The portraits followed his every step and move.

"That can't be! It can't." Dilys exclaimed.

The headmaster strode to the window and said an incantation known only to the headmaster and deputy of the school. A minute after the incantation, ribbons of energy in opalescent colors began to criss cross across the grounds of Hogwarts from the castle to the lake, to the forest and beyond. He pressed himself against the tall windows unbelieving what his eyes were witnessing. "It's a miracle." he murmured. "A miracle."

For a few minutes they all watched the lines form, reform and join in riotous patterns across the grounds. Then the lines turned towards the castle. The portraits gasped as line after line streaked across their walls. As a line inched across his desk, the headmaster seemed to come to full alertness. "Oh, goodness, I have to tell the others." He left the office hurriedly.

"Was anyone going to ask Albus about that tartan dressing gown?" Phineas asked airily as the door clicked shut.

- -

In the infirmary, Professor Flitwick tried to shade his eyes from the light and go back to sleep. But the light grew brighter still. Finally, he blinked and craned his neck trying to see where the light came from. The windows were glowing. Flitwick sat up with some effort. His ribs complained mightily at the sudden movement. From where he was, he could see out to the front of the school. He saw the fiery lines on the grounds growing brighter and more powerful with the passing of time. He stared and stared not believing.

Madam Pompfrey came in and sat down on his bed. Her eyes were wet with tears of joy not sorrow. "It's back, Filius. The Blessing is restored."

The two friends sat in quiet contemplation watching the Blessing's power spread through the castle and the grounds. In various places of the castle, smaller groups of staff and teachers gathered also watching. This spectacle was for their eyes alone. After the tears came the laughter. No one returned to their beds that night. Many strolled the grounds feeling the raw energy coursing through the land. The Blessing was rebuilding itself winding and wending its way across all of Hogwarts. With every passing hour, the lines knitted themselves together tighter, closer.

In the Sitters Room, Demos, Professor Sprout and Calliandra laughed and danced around the Tree of Blessing. It was growing ever higher and the ceiling was rising higher and higher to accomodate it. The newest tree was similarly growing in height and health. Its branches hung heavy with fruit.

"I thought I had seen everything." Serjanus mused watching the others. "Apparently, I have a lot more to learn."

At that very moment, in the secure recesses of Hogwarts, its greatest champion stirred in his enforced sleep. His hand twitched once and then fell still. A tinge of rose colored his pale cheeks. His breathing lost its delicate rattle. It became deep and unhurried. His beard lost its gray drabness. Strand by strand, it took on a silvery luster. His companion glowed brightly one, twice, three times and each time growing bigger and brighter.

Beside the bed stood two men watching the changes coming over the sleeper with great interest. Nicholas watched avidly taking notes now and then. "Remarkable, utterly remarkable."

The other man touched the hem of Albus' robes then quickly withdrew. His fingers tingled with warmth and magical energy. Snape stood unmoving not trusting his voice to express the uncommon emotions roiling inside of him - awe, relief, joy, and most rare of all, hope.

- -

As the sun rose over the horizon, the staff stood outside the castle waiting anxiously. Their robes scant protection against the cold winter chill. In time, the sun cast its rays upon the castle. Its masonry walls glittered in the light of a new day. The flags waved crisply in the air. The staff cheered until they were hoarse.


	34. Surprises and Unexpected Gifts

**Chapter 34**

_**Surprises and Unexpected Gifts**_

A hurried breakfast was followed by a hurried meeting in the Room of Counsel. Exultant though they were about the Blessing's return, the timing could not have been more awkward. Questions would be asked. The Ministry would no doubt send investigators. The headmaster sat in his usual chair lost in thought.

"Where's Minerva?" asked Professor Sprout. "I didn't see her at breakfast, either."

The headmaster began. "Like many of you, we were both up quite late watching the Blessing reassert itself once more. She's ... she's -"

"I, ah, told her to have a lie in, Cera," Poppy explained. "She was starting to have a cold. You know how she is. She won't rest properly unless I force her to. We certainly don't need her sick, not now."

The last comment elicited some chuckles from the assembled people who knew the deputy well.

"We must prevent any more Ministry inspections. The storage rooms are close to bursting. The grounds have been dug up, changed and re-landscaped," said Professor Sprout. "They are bound to notice something is going on."

"What about the new interior passageways? We haven't had time to disguise 'em yet," put in Filch. "The castle's a right mess an' we only have today to put things right 'fore the student come back tomorrow night."

"Did the Blessing affect the wards? The Ministry monitors those and they'll know if something's happened?" Professor Flitwick sat fidgeting in his chair. Weak as he was, he had insisted on attending the meeting instead of staying in the infirmary.

"Calm yourself, Filius," Nicholas Flamel soothed. "Severus and I have inspected the wards. There is no change to them. We can safely assume that the Ministry knows nothing about what happened last night."

"Unless someone tells them." The words were quietly said, almost whispered. "And I intend to."

"Albus, the other side knows the Blessing is deteriorating. Why not lull them into a false sense of security?" Flitwick remarked. "We must use this ... this disinformation to our advantage."

"It will be to our advantage. As you say the other side knows and they have devised their strategy to take advantage of our weakness. By letting them know the Blessing has returned, they will be forced to rethink their plans."

"I suppose there is the psychological advantage of a good shock to consider," Flitwick rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He will come against us even stronger, harder, Albus. What other heinous surprises will he have for us besides those ... those fearsome creatures?"

"You're probably right, Filius, but we will have some surprises for him, too." Albus rose and crossed to the main table. He looked directly at his tiny general. "We need to unbalance him. Too long we have waited, played a defensive game. No more. We must make him react. Filius, think of this piece of news as our revenge for that incident in the alley."

Flitwick grinned back. "I wonder who shall deliver the news to him."

All eyes turned to Professor Snape who shrugged. "That would be me, in person."

Surprised exclamations traveled through the table. Serjanus and Calliandra shook their heads. Serjanus spoke his mind. "Severus, there is no telling Voldemort's reaction. He may kill you. Now that the Blessing is returned at full strength, he cannot touch you here. Consider that this may be the sign that you should reveal your true nature and retire from his service."

"You would make me a virtual prisoner of these walls, father?"

"You would be safe!" Calliandra pounded her fist on the table. "You have far more value to us than wasting your time playing spymaster."

"I do not consider his years here as wasted, Calliandra," Albus retorted.

"The battle with Voldemort will come and soon. It is inevitable. But what about afterwards, Albus, when my son's usefulness in your plans has ended? All things come to an end. Do not bother contradicting me. We know each other too well." Serjanus glanced at Calliandra then regarded his son across the table. "Calliandra and I have not interfered as you have involved yourself more and more but we cannot keep silent now. Think of your future, Severus. You will have one, you know you will."

Calliandra said earnestly, "Why does it have to be you? Inform Malfoy obliquely and let him deliver the news."

Snape clasped his hands together in front of him. "I am thinking of my life, believe me. The attack on the headmaster and Filius made me realize that there are other plans I am unaware of. For all our sakes, I must find a way to prove myself more loyal to the dark lord than ever. What better way than to tell him of this? He will expect me to know it because of my position here. What excuse could I make to defend my ignorance? Nothing! So, you see, I have no choice. It must be me."

"Then send a post, Severus, surely that is sufficient."

"Mother, if you were me, would you deliver such news by owl?" There was no response. "I will send a post first asking for a private meeting."

"Fine, take one of us with you," Calliandra insisted. "In animal form as before."

Serjanus drummed his fingers on the table. "No, take Demos with you, Severus."

"He did not react well the last time, father. I had to forcibly suppress him." Snape said.

"He was a child then. He reacted as a child." Serjanus answered. "He's not a child any more. He has applied himself to his lessons diligently. He is in almost all respects a young adult and a powerful one. And he aches to help in any way he can."

"Serjanus, I'm not sure about this," Calliandra interjected.

"I am sure, Calliandra, he will do well." Serjanus smiled softly at his wife.

Calliandra kept silent but her eyes implied a discussion with her husband after the meeting. Professor Snape looked at his father curiously.

Albus clapped his hands and all attention shifted to him. "Good. That's settled. Now. we all have many things to do. I suggest we get started. I will be informing the Ministry tomorrow. The timing should coincide well with your own Severus."

"Will you be going to the Ministry in person?" Mr. Ollivander asked.

"No, I believe I will owl Cornelius. I am sure that he will be very receptive." Albus stood up and let the way out of the Room of Counsel.

Unbeknownst to the pretender, the real Dumbledore was stirring in his sleep. The isolation room was dark save for the lone candle light and the companion hovering above his bed. Were anyone in the room, one would have seen the hint of a small smile playing upon the headmaster's lips. The face once so drawn and gaunt was filling out and the frown lines were disappearing. Muscles once flacid with great age were reforming stronger, more taut. No, Albus Dumbledore would not awaken a youth or even middle-aged. When the time came, his glossy beard and mane would be as long as they had been before. His mind, body and memories intact. But he would be strong and able altogether ready to fight and win.

* * *

Inside a small cage, talons scraping weakly against metal bars, the smallest of Voldemort's pets lay panting and squeaking with fright. It was alone. Its fellows lay dead on long tables arranged about the room. The creature huddled in a corner of its prison most of the day. Madam Pince filled the small water bowl inside. She dangled pieces of fresh meat in front of the captive. Unable to ignore its hunger, the bat snagged the morsel with its talons and began to feed.

"At least it's eating something." Pince murmurred. She placed several more morsels on a small dish and slid it into the cage. Pince looked at the sample carcasses brought back by Sinistra and Snape. They had been studying the animals all day. By sheer chance, they found a live one. They were all in agreement that these creatures were transmuted from their natural form and enhanced using dark magic. She walked over to another table where Sinistra was bent double making measurements. "Anything new?"

"Unnatural six meter wingspans, razor sharp, slashing claws, dense muscularity and incredible maneuverability and speed, I'm hoping not to find out anything else," Sinistra replied. "How's the little one?"

"Still weak. It eats but it's not getting stronger." Pince answered. "It needs something else but what. Hagrid came by with milk - goat milk, cow's milk even bat milk. It spat them all out."

Sinistra crossed her arms across her chest. "Is it true, it spat all over Hagrid?"

Pince laughed softly. "Yes. It kept banging itself against the bars, rather violently I thought, when Hagrid was around. The closer he was, the more it wailed and crept off into the corner. Hagrid doesn't like it much either. He says that he can feel his blood curdling because of all that dark magic imbued in the creature. I suppose we're stuck taking care of it."

A loud yell came from the opposite end of the room. "I found it! You won't believe this one!"

"What is it, Hooch?" Sinistra asked as she and Pince made their way over.

"The two bats that tried to carry Filius off. It was buried under a pile of bodies over here," Hooch moved some dead carcasses to fully uncover the remains of two giant bats. A quick wave of her wand and the bat's statistics appeared in glowing letters above the table. "Wingspan twelve meters. Infrared sight. Thicker skin than normal almost rubbery. Oh, merlin, it even has fangs!"

Pince bent down to take a closer look. "Look here. The brain cavity, the very head, is enlarged, and the eyes, too."

"At this wingspan, they must reach a cruising speed of, ah, 35 kilometers per hour, maybe more if sustained," Hooch surmised.

The glitter of metal caught Sinistra's eye. Around the ankle of the specimen was a small metal tag with an inscription. "What's this?" Ever curious she read the inscription. "Ladies, it has a name. Galerius."

"After everything that's happened nothing surprises me anymore," said Hooch briskly.

Sinistra investigated the second bat and found its tag. "This one is called ... Aurelius."

Pince ran a hand across one of the giants' back and its wings. "Pets are given names aren't they?"

Hooch and Sinistra silently pondered the implications of that possibility.

"Look at the numbers by size of these bats. It's proportional. The smallest have the highest numbers while these ... special ones ... well, we have two here. Filius didn't indicate that he saw too many of these fellows." Pince continued. "It reminds me of an army. The small ones are the infantry. These larger ones are the officers. The pampered pets of the field marshall."

"Army! Pets! Did I hear you correctly? Pets!" inquired Professor Flitwick as he entered the room and walked towards them.

"Yes, I said pets, Filus. They have nametags as pets would." Pince replied.

"Does Poppy know you're here?" Hooch asked while retrieving a tall stool for Flitwick to sit on. "I thought you were to return to the infirmary after lunch."

"I am allowed thirty minutes, Hooch, and then I am confined to quarters." Flitwick clambered on to the stool. "Really, I don't see why. Albus was more injured than I was and he was let out before me."

"If it makes you feel any better, Filius, we haven't seen the headmaster much. He's been taking his meals in his rooms. No doubt he is under Poppy's instruction as well." said Sinistra. "Since you're here, can we ask you a few questions?"

At Flitwick's nod, Pince began. "You've said before how fast and agile they were, even this big one here. When they attacked you and the headmaster, did you sense any pattern or technique?"

Flitwick nodded. "They came in waves, one after the other. Very orderly. And each wave targeted a specific area - face, body, legs. There was training. That was obvious. I would attribute intelligence to the bigger ones. I looked into the eyes of that one there and that was no dumb animal. I could see intent and, yes, thought."

"I don't relish facing one of these at close quarters. It has all the advantages," Hooch put in. "Can't outfly them and shooting Unforgivables will drain the flyers too quickly. There aren't enough companions to go around either."

"Why do you have to fight them at all?" Sinistra asked. "Wouldn't it be better to avoid them altogether?"

"I doubt He-WhoMust-Not-Be-Named would go to the trouble of making these monsters and not use them against us in the field." Hooch laid her hands flat on the table. "We can't very well hide. They sense body heat!"

"I mean why have them come to us when they don't have to," Sinistra grinned. "We know one thing. These bats don't like Hagrid."

"The little one doesn't like Hagrid, but what about this big one here?"

"I think it would apply to this one as well. Aside from size and intelligence, there's no difference between them."

"I am not having Hagrid ride behind me," Hooch warned.

Pince after following the exchange carefully said, "Sinistra's right. Something about Hagrid puts these creatures off. Hair? Scent? Pheromone? Cologne? Blood?"

The door opened again and the Headmaster, Professor Snape, Professor Sprout, Calliandra Snape and Demos walked in. Sprout held a plateful of fruit slices of various colors - pink, green, deep red and yellow. "The Trees of Blessing are groaning under the weight of fruit. I had a massive harvest this morning. Here, everyone, have some. It comes in house flavors."

Everyone made their choices. Flitwick picked a tangy yellow slice for Ravenclaw, lemony with a hint of sweetness. Pink had the texture and flavor of a grapefruit. It was deemed the Hufflepuff flavor. The Gryffindor slices were deep red and sweet like an apple. Slytherin's choice was green and slightly sour.

Dumbledore popped a pink piece into his mouth. "Tangy with some bite to it. Delicious."

"I would think you would favor the sweetest ones, Albus," Flitwick commented.

"Oh, I do, Filius, but I do like some variety, too." Albus replied. "Lenore, you're not taking any?"

"Headmaster, I believed I overdosed on them yesterday. I haven't slept since," Pince informed him. "If I take anymore I may not sleep for a week."

"They're fantastic!" Hooch enthused. "I haven't felt this good in years."

"I did some tests on them. They're actually natural rejuvenators. Poppy is on fire to find some medicinal uses for them." Sprout said. "Filius, take as many as you like. It will speed your recovery I'm sure."

High pitched squeals came from the cage and they all turned their heads. Near the cage stood the Snapes and Demos. Demos was backing slowly away one step at a time. As he got further away, the squeals grew quieter. On her knees, Calliandra watched the creature intently. With one hand she motioned for Demos to take another step back. The creature calmed once Demos was a good ten meters away. Calliandra held out a finger to the creature as if tempting it to bite. The creature lunged after her finger. It's tiny teeth snapped helplessly in to thin air. Calliandra motioned Severus over and instructed him to dangle his fingers in the cage. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when the creature rubbed itself against Severus' hand and began to make some unlikely sounds.

"Bats don't purr but this one does," Calliandra said. "It fears Demos, attacks me and loves you."

"It seems rather fitting. The students do refer to me as 'that bat' on occasion." Severus rubbed the tiny head and the creature mewled.

"Severus, hang your right hand over the cage, please," Calliandra asked. A quick look at her son communicated her suspicions instantly. Severus stroked the beast with his right hand but the animal ignored it. It continued to lean against his left. Severus cradled the animal in his right hand and removed his left hand from the cage. The bat's mood immediately changed. It tried to spread its wings to fly but Severus held it firm. It began to pant and mewl. He brought his left hand back to stroke the creature's head and once more it became docile and tame.

"It's attracted to the Dark Mark." Calliandra observed.

"Perhaps," Severus added. In his heart he knew it was not the mark alone that the creature recognized. The poor creature recognized its master in him. With each passing day, he was becoming Slytherin's heir more and more. He glanced at his mother studying the creature with scientific detachment. He remembered his parents' words about his future. He had to tell them about the mark, the stone, everything, before they left Hogwarts. He really didn't much choice in the matter.

* * *

At Longbottom House, Mr. Ollivander regaled Neville and his grandmother with stories of his adventures with Dumbledore and Flitwick over dinner. Throughout dinner Neville wondered just how much of the wishbringer story Mr. Ollivander knew. The secret weighed heavily on his mind and heart. He had nixed the idea of asking for Hermione's help. He could not do much in one day in a huge city like London. Perhaps, he thought, after we get back on a free weekend, she could accompany me into the city and teach me how muggle transportation worked. Throughout the day, he had pestered the mirror on any way, spell or charm that he could use to find her. The mirror had told him all it knew. The rest was up to him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small, muted chime indicating that someone or something had crossed the property's wards. Ollivander was on the alert but Genevieve Longbottom motioned for him to remain seated. "It's not hostile or unknown, Flavius, otherwise it would be trumpets sounding."

"Let's greet our guests shall we?" Madam Longbottom rose gracefully while making sure her wand was accessible inside her pocket. Neville and Mr. Ollivander followed her into the living room. Mr. Ollivander took a strategic post by the window. He could see a tiny figure walking up to the front door.

A few minutes later, an elderly, dignified house elf announced Griphook's arrival. Griphook cleared his throat and bowed to Madam Longbottom. If Genevieve was surprised, she hid it well. Griphook began to speak. "Madam, I am here on behalf of the Elder Council to fulfill an agreement made long ago. I come seeking the male heir of Rhys Longas. Is he here?"

Genevieve was now thoroughly surprised and gaped at the goblin. She motioned in Neville's direction. "That would be my grandson, Neville."

Griphook turned towards the now petrified Neville and bowed. "Mr. Neville Longbottom, as the heir of Rhys Longas, it is to you that my message is intended."

Griphook took a deep breath. It had suddenly dawned on him the historical importance of the moment and he fought off an attack of nerves. "We, the Goblin hold of Gringotts, need to inform you that the guard of Vault Number One has notified us that the vault has a new owner. You are Guardian. It falls to you to find her."

"The Wishbringer," Neville whispered.

Griphook smiled and he began to relax. The Guardian knew his purpose. Perhaps this matter would be solved quickly and he could return to the bank tomorrow. "Yes, Guardian, the Wishbringer."

By the window, Mr. Ollivander gasped. His eyes darted to Neville then the goblin and back again. "My word!"

"Wishbringer?" asked a thoroughly confused Genevieve. "Like the coins? What does it have to do with Neville?"

"It's a woman, gran. Someone I'm supposed to find." Neville frowned in concentration. "Is there more to the message, Mr. Griphook?"

"As part of the covenant with your ancestor, one of our number is to be assigned to aid you in whatever capacity you choose. I am that aid. The elders have informed our brethren and we are making our preparations of welcome."

"More importantly, when ... when were you informed?" Ollivander leaned on the back of the sofa focusing all his attention on the young goblin.

"The manticore began to roar at half past eleven last night. By midnight it was very agitated. The council at half past midnight."

"Witching hour," Ollivander murmurred. "The Blessing. The Wishbringer. I wonder."

Griphook drew himself as straight and tall as he could. "What tasks do you have for me, Guardian?"

Neville stood up and bagan to pace. "Nothing yet. I don't even know where to start. London is enormous."

"London? We have brethren there who can look for her," Griphook informed.

Ollivander looked at Neville through narrowed eyes. "How do you know, Neville?"

"My mirror woke me last night. It sensed her ... her awakening. That it was powerful and it came from London."

"That cursed mirror! What foolishness has it been telling you now?" Genevieve shrieked.

"Gran, please. It's true. A pact was made a long time ago between Rhys Longas and the last Wishbringer, Phaedre. The pact said that we would preserve the Wishbringer's treasures and knowledge until it was time for the next one. And ... and only a descendant of Rhys would be able to find her."

"I've never heard of such a thing!"

"Few know but ..." Mr. Ollivander's voice broke. "It's true, Genevieve, I swear it is. Rhys confided in my ancestor, Pieros. For whatever reason, the tale was told to the Mirror. I never thought I would see ... not in my lifetime. She will bring light and hope to our world. My word."

"I feel that I am lacking some vital information." Genevieve summoned a house elf and asked for tea. "Neville, I want to know everything. Griphook, you have delivered your message and you have our gratitude. You may depart."

"I cannot leave yet, Madam. I am at your service until the Wishbringer is found."

"I see." Genevieve pursed her lips. "Very well. I hope you'll be comfortable in one of the guest rooms. Now, Neville, I believe you have a story for me."

Neville faced his grandmother. She blinked a few times. Was it her eyes or did her grandson suddenly seem so much older? "I have some rules. First, nothing we discuss goes past this room and this group. No one knows, gran, not Uncle Algie, Aunt Clementine, Professor McGonagall,no one. Second, Mr. Ollivander, you have to tell everything me you know, that was handed down to you. Third, this is my task. You can't do it for me or help too much."

"But, Neville -"

"No, gran, those are the rules. The mirror says that I must do this and I will. Are you going follow the rules or not?"

"You're not giving me much choice, dear." Genevieve sniffed. "I promise I shall follow the rules."

Mr. Ollivander nodded his assent as did Griphook. Then Neville began to tell the story as the mirror had told him. Ollivander added what he knew wherever he could. After an hour, they were no closer to discovering the Wishbringer's identity.

"Tomorrow I have to be back at Hogwarts, Griphook, but I need to go to Gringotts too." Neville said.

"Flavius, can you bring Neville's trunk and things with you back to Hogwarts tonight?" asked Genevieve.

"Of course."

"Then tomorrow I'll go with him to Diagon Alley." Seeing that Neville was about to protest she said, "I will do some shopping while you're at Gringotts. You can use your wishbringer coin to get you to Hogwarts afterwards."

Neville nodded. "Griphook, you can stay at the bank. If I need you I'll contact you there."

"Are you sure, sir?" Griphook could not believe his good fortune. He could stay at the bank. No more adventuring.

"Yeah. We won't be doing any looking until the weekends anyway."

Griphook's hopes plummeted. The adventure wasn't over. "I see. Very well, sir."

Mr. Ollivander approached the gates of Hogwarts in a very light mood. He wanted to dance. He wanted to sing. He wanted to embrace the world and feel it embrace him in return. War or no war, hope was alive again in the world.

* * *

Author's Notes: I am continuing the story. I underestimated the recovery time of chemo treatments hence the drought of updates. As I did with Of Secret Vices, I am in the home stretch and updates will be more frequent. The plots are converging, some of you may be able to see it happening or guess, some may not but that'spart of the fun.. I've kept Demos under wraps, I know. He's grown up sort ofand I hope you like his character.

Thank you for keeping up with the story. I am fixing grammar, typos and what not in the earlier chapters. As always, comments are welcome.

Enjoy,   
mavidian


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